Rainy days and mondays
by Jaguarin
Summary: Chapter 23- finale posted June 19, 2004. Helena still is facing her guilt about Wade's dead. Harleen escapes and prepares her revenge.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Rainy Days and Mondays  
  
Authors: Jag, The Godfather  
  
Rating: PG-13 for this one.  
  
Okay, this fic is a co-write with ShawnGF, excellent writer. We hope you enjoy it.  
  
*****************************  
  
She yawned indelicately as she entered the Clocktower, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. The heels of her heavy boots clanked against the ground, announcing her presence. She wasn't attempting to be quiet or subtle. "Barbara?" she called out, glancing around. Her brow furrowed as she examined an empty control room. Computers bleeped and flashed but the redhead who went by the codename of Oracle was nowhere to be seen.  
  
She crossed over to one of the computers and ran her fingers across the sleek black keyboard, smiling at the knowledge that Barbara would be irked as all hell if she saw her young mentor fingering her toys. It was something of a game they had going.  
  
These days games were a good thing even if they were a bit strained.  
  
Shaking her head she dropped down from the platform and headed back towards the elevator. Barbara's room was on the hidden lower level, at the base of the Clocktower. Helena glanced at her watch and chuckled; she had certainly lost track of time. It was almost two in the morning and with all of her charges taking the night off, chances were good that Barbara Gordon had just turned in for the night.  
  
Especially since she was battling a wicked nasty cold.  
  
Helena slipped quietly into Barbara's room, scowling mightily at the floral tones the room had. The decorations seemed almost like a cry for normalcy but they were utterly out of character for the woman he could do more stomach crunches than most Olympians.  
  
The first thing she noticed was that her mentor seemed restless. She was tossing and turning, her fingers biting into the sheets and blankets. Helena glanced over to the nightstand next to the bed and noticed a stack of wrinkled tissues sitting next to a bottle of green cough syrup. Involuntarily the brunette shuddered, caught in the memory of previous adventures with NyQuil.  
  
"Wade," Barbara moaned, thrashing to the left. She grabbed at her pillow, yanking it towards her.  
  
Helena felt her body stiffen immeasurably. Her entire lithe frame went rigid with tension. The name Barbara had spoken cut through her like a twisted dagger to the heart.  
  
Wade Brixton.  
  
He was the teacher that Barbara had fallen for. The idiotic funny goofy man that had made the very lonely Oracle actually feel good about herself for a few minutes. Barbara knew that she was a good mentor but had long since started dismissing herself as being a woman worth looking at.  
  
Wade had changed that.  
  
And now he was dead. Buried and in the ground six months now.  
  
And as far as Helena Kyle was concerned, it was completely her fault.  
  
Six months earlier a super-villainess named Harley Quinn had used her relationship with the young crime fighter to infiltrate the Clocktower and overtake New Gotham. Many innocents had lost their lives their night.  
  
Wade was the worst.  
  
Wade was her responsibility. Harley hadn't been the Joker's paramour to her, no in fact she had been Dr. Harleen Quinzell, her court mandated psychiatrist. Someone she had let into her life because she had wanted to get the burden of being a so-called hero off her shoulders.  
  
Yeah that had worked out great for everyone.  
  
The guilt was overwhelming at times. Especially during the quiet peaceful moments. Barbara never said anything but her mounting loneliness was obvious. She had already lost so much in her life but Wade had been excruciating.  
  
Especially since her charge had been directly responsible for his murder.  
  
Even if Barbara would never actually say the words.  
  
Helena took a deep breath and started towards Barbara, intent on pulling her from her nightmare. During their early days together not long after the Joker had shattered Barbara's back and arranged for Selina Kyle's murder, it had been the redhead who had been her constant comfort; always there to hold and protect her against her own mind.  
  
Times were changing and days were turning. Crazy world and all of that.  
  
She had moved within three feet of Barbara when she felt a strange buzzing against her leg. She jumped a bit, momentarily alarmed. Then she chuckled nervously. She felt like a fool but she played it cool, casually reaching into the side pocket of her leather jacket. She pulled out a miniscule metal cellular phone and opened it up. She slipped back into the hallway so as not to disturb Barbara. "Yeah?"  
  
"Hey," Jesse Reese said softly, his voice coming over the line with a kind of liquid calm. He made some of the guilt and pain slip away for a few moments. If a man as good as Reese could love her, well was that some kind of hope?  
  
Her eyebrow jumped and she grinned mischievously. "Why Detective, I just left you, miss me already?"  
  
He laughed but it sounded strangely subdued. She wondered why but figured she'd find out soon enough. "Always," he replied. He paused for a long beat, carefully choosing his words. "That's not why I called."  
  
She knew something was wrong but decided to play dumb for a few moments longer. "Did I leave something at your apartment? I promise I'll be back for it later." She used her best flirtatious tone. She'd been trying for weeks to get him to be a little naughty on the phone but he was still resisting.  
  
She could almost see him shaking his head in disbelief. He knew what she was doing and he was intentionally allowing her to get away with it. That alone told her that whatever he had to tell her was not something that was going to make her jump for joy. "Yes you will." He took a deep breath. "Helena, there's been a problem at Arkham."  
  
She glanced back towards Barbara, frowning as her mentor cried out again. The pain of seeing Barbara in so much agony intensified when she saw a tiny stream of tears course down her cheeks.  
  
She swallowed hard, the words almost catching in her suddenly dry throat. "What kind of problem?"  
  
There was a long silence and then Reese said very quietly, "Harley has escaped."  
  
Helena slipped out into the hallway and then punched the wall, her balled fist sliding smoothly through the plaster. She yanked her hand out of the hole, ignorant of her now bloody knuckles. "Fuck," she hissed.  
  
"Helena, calm down," Reese urged, his voice tight. He had obviously heard the cracking plaster and seemed completely aware of what she had done. "There are..."  
  
"I know," she snapped. "Cops everywhere looking for her. You know damn well they won't find her."  
  
"We'll get her," Reese assured her. "Look, I'm heading out with McNally...did you want to come along?" He sounded hopeful but she knew that he was just trying to find a way to give her something to do.  
  
She shook her head. "No. No."  
  
"Helena, don't do anything stupid." He paused. "She might not even be looking at you guys. If she's smart, she's on her way out of New Gotham."  
  
She snorted loudly. "Reese, that bitch wants revenge and you and I both know it so let's just not dick around, okay?"  
  
"Okay," he agreed, his voice passive. He wasn't about to allow her to bait him into an argument. "Just do me a favor then, okay?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go home and get some sleep. No matter what, she's not coming for you tonight."  
  
"That's probably true," Helena grunted. Then she sighed. "You're right... Look, if you find anything, give me a call. I'm gonna...I'm gonna head back to my place."  
  
"Good," he said. "I'll come by in the morning okay?"  
  
"Sure," she said, wanting to say so much more.  
  
She clamped her mouth shut however, afraid of the consequences of saying anything else. Her emotions were whirling in mad circles and she wasn't quite sure that she had any semblance of balance.  
  
Anger. Despair. Fear.  
  
All there in abundance.  
  
Maybe it was about time to pay up.  
  
"Get some sleep," he urged her again. "I'll be in touch."  
  
"Goodnight," she murmured. She didn't wait for his reply, only pulled the phone away from her ear and closed it. Moving almost in slow motion she dropped the cell back into her pocket and slid back towards Barbara's room.  
  
This time Barbara's scream of agony broke her protégé's heart into a thousand shards. All to small to be recovered.  
  
"Wade, no!"  
  
Helena turned away from Barbara's bed, her hands clenched into fists. She could feel a dull ache emanating from the wounds she had received when she had punched the wall but she didn't really care. Everything else hurt more.  
  
She walked stiffly down the hall and entered the elevator. She let it drop to the second floor, her mind spinning and screaming at her. It accused her and condemned her, demanding penance, requiring suffering.  
  
It was getting its wish.  
  
She stepped out in the control room and looked around. Everything was quiet but she rather imagined that it wouldn't stay that way for long. She paced around anxiously, not quite sure what to do. She couldn't very well just leave Barbara alone with Harley out and about but her feet were burning and she felt like she was about to scream. Things could only go downhill from there.  
  
"Helena?"  
  
She glanced up, annoyed at being pulled out of her thoughts. She blinked when she saw the blonde girl standing in front of her. "Dinah," she grunted. "What are you doing home?"  
  
"I think the home part pretty much sums it up," Dinah replied lightly. She frowned when she saw Helena's bloody hand. "What did you do to yourself?"  
  
"Tripped," Helena replied, moving away from Dinah. "Have a good night kid." Then she stopped and looked back at Dinah. "Look, Dr. Quinzell just escaped from Arkham."  
  
"Oh God," Dinah gasped. "We should..."  
  
"I'm gonna handle it," Helena said quickly. "I'm going to meet up with Reese. You know, help him look for her."  
  
"But... Okay," Dinah said slowly. "We'll do what we can from this side."  
  
"Sure," Helena said shortly as she turned back towards the elevator. As she exited the room she stopped long enough to arm the defense systems.  
  
After the first invasion Barbara had greatly enhanced the entire network. Breaking in with the correct codes and in some cases DNA was near impossible.  
  
"Helena," Dinah called after her. The brunette kept moving, her gait slick and agitated. She was seriously pissed off but there was something else there. Something Dinah couldn't quite put a finger on. Helena disappeared down the shaft.  
  
Dinah stood watching for several long minutes, confusion written on her features. Finally she snapped herself out of it. "Barbara," she said to herself.  
  
She sighed and stepped into the elevator. She brought it up to the floor that housed Barbara's room and exited it. When she had left earlier in the evening, the redhead had been knocking back herbal tea like it was water.  
  
"Barbara?"  
  
She looked into the room to see the woman she likened to her mother trembling in the middle of the sheets, sweat beading on her forehead and tears on her cheeks. She crossed to her quickly and shook her shoulder roughly. She repeated the action until Barbara came awake with a start, swinging out her arm. Dinah just barely missed taking a hand to the jaw.  
  
"What? Who?" Barbara looked up, her eyes as wild as her hair.  
  
"Nice," Dinah grinned. "This could be a problem in the morning."  
  
Barbara grimaced. "Sorry." Then she paused. "I don't have too much morning company these days."  
  
"Right," Dinah said apologetically, quite uncomfortable with the subject. The whole Wade thing was kind of an unspoken rift between them all, especially Helena and Barbara. The two of them both had so much to say about it but neither of them was talking.  
  
In short it boiled down to the simple fact that Helena blamed herself for Wade's death and Barbara couldn't seem to convince her young charge otherwise. Even that inability was a source of tension.  
  
"So, how was your night?" Barbara asked, sitting up in the bed. She sniffled a bit and then sneezed. She reached over to the nightstand and picked up a glass of water. She drained it, groaned, and then looked up at Dinah, awaiting an answer.  
  
"Eh, it was fine until Gabby's brother got home. He's kind of obnoxious," Dinah laughed. She glanced at the wall. "I'm home before curfew."  
  
"I didn't say anything," Barbara replied, holding up her hands in protest.  
  
"No but I could tell that you were wondering. Bet you can't quite recall when you said my curfew is through all that cotton," Dinah teased.  
  
Barbara growled. "Keep it up." She pushed herself up and out of the bed, sliding effortlessly into her chair. She exited the room, followed closely by Dinah. She stopped and frowned when she saw the fist sized hole in the wall. "Uh, what is this?"  
  
"That must be what she hit," Dinah mused. She glanced down at Barbara, meeting her eyes. "Her hand was bloody. She seemed...distracted."  
  
"Wonder why," Barbara mumbled. "She had a date with Reese tonight. Can't imagine that went too badly."  
  
"They haven't been going badly at all lately," Dinah grinned, lowering her voice. She was acting as if she was scandalized but the redhead knew better.  
  
"Dinah," she warned as they both entered the elevator.  
  
"Save it," Dinah laughed. "I have to have something to tease her about. Her relationship with Reese is so prime."  
  
Barbara cocked her head to the side. "Yes, yes it is." Then she frowned. "I wonder what's bothering her."  
  
Dinah swallowed hard and then finally said. "Harley maybe?" She knew she should have mentioned it immediately but had a feelings that things were about to get very bad.  
  
Barbara looked at her curiously. "What are you talking about?" Dinah was about to reply when they heard all of Delphi's alarms going off.  
  
As loudly as they could manage.  
  
Barbara moved quickly towards the monitors. She slid up the ramp and saddled herself right up next to the main switchboard. All her monitors were going crazy, displaying information just about as fast as they could.  
  
"Oh God," Barbara muttered. "How did this happen?" The last statement was more to herself than anyone else. She was already typing a mile a minute.  
  
"I don't know. Helena told me on her way out," Dinah said coming up behind her. She peered over her shoulder.  
  
Barbara swallowed hard. "Harley has actually escaped. I don't believe it."  
  
"Damn," Dinah cursed, her eyes moving across several lines of text. The reports coming across the wire indicated that several guards had been murdered in the outbreak. Harley appeared to be the only criminal of notorious note to have escaped but several small-timers were also out and about.  
  
"Where did Helena go?" Barbara asked, her voice thick with emotion. Her mind wandered back to the dream she had just awoken from. Neh, the nightmare. It had been a horrible replay of the night in which Harley had murdered Wade only this time somehow or another; she'd had a front row seat for the performance.  
  
"She said she was gonna help Reese hunt down Harley. Are you okay?" Dinah asked, placing a soft hand on Barbara's bare shoulder. She was clothed in a pair of loose flannel pants and a wifebeater. Bedtime clothes. Or late night checking on the systems apparel if need be.  
  
Barbara chewed her lip, trying to think of her answer. "No, I don't think I am." She blew out ear between her teeth. "I think Helena is worse however. She's going to take all of this on herself." She turned towards the switchboard and flicked a button. Immediately a voice picked up. Reese.  
  
"Is she with you?" Barbara asked.  
  
Who?"  
  
"Helena."  
  
There was a pause and then Reese replied. No and she's not supposed to be. I told her to go home and sleep. Are you okay? I take it you've heard.  
  
"I'm dealing," Barbara replied. "Thanks. I'll let you know when we find her."  
  
Copy that Oracle, Reese replied before cutting the line.  
  
"You want me to call her?" Dinah asked.  
  
"No, if I know Helena she's already turned off her phone." Barbara chuckled humorlessly. "And I know Helena."  
  
"You think Harley will go after her?" Dinah asked, her voice suddenly very small and worried.  
  
Barbara pursed her lips. "Probably. Eventually anyways. Not tonight though." She turned to Dinah. "Do me a favor okay?"  
  
"You want me to go check on her."  
  
"She probably went back to where she can get drunk the easiest," Barbara sighed.  
  
"You really do know her well," Dinah chuckled.  
  
"Yes, I do." She turned to look at Dinah. "I can't make her forgive herself. She wants to blame herself for Wade. I've told her a thousand times that I don't blame her but every time I start to talk to her, she completely phases out on me. I don't how to get through to her about this. But I'm not gonna let her hurt herself because she's on one of her guilt binges."  
  
"On it," Dinah said, breaking away. She stopped and looked back at Barbara. "Are you okay? You sure you don't need the company yourself?"  
  
Barbara closed her eyes. "I'm miles from okay and right now I really don't want anyone around me." She offered Dinah a small smile. "No offense."  
  
"None taken," Dinah responded. "I'm expecting a lot worse from Helena."  
  
"Smart girl," Barbara commented. Then she turned away from the blonde; her eyes already back to scanning the numerous reports. She was going to do what he always did when things started to hurt.  
  
She was going to become Oracle. 


	2. Trying to forget

The Dark Horse bar was in shambles. Chairs were broken into pieces on the floor and tables were turn on their sides. Glass was shattered all over the ground. All of it debris from an especially nasty bar fight the previous evening. Something about who was going to get to home with whom.  
  
Helena sighed and slipped through the door, heading towards the stairs to her apartment. She stopped when her eyes lit on a white envelope sitting on the counter. The contrast between it and all the clutter was astonishing. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, wondering if it was some kind of rude message from Leonard.  
  
It wasn't.  
  
"You put the knife in Barbara's back, I just pushed it in further. Really how could she ever forgive your betrayal? You stole her the only chance to be a woman again. Thanks for helping me to kill sweet Wade Brixton. Your favorite psychiatrist, Dr. Quinzell."  
  
Helena felt the anger growing inside her. She picked up one of the chairs that was on the ground and smashed it against the bar, splintering it into a thousand pieces. "Dammit!" she barked. She started to pace the floor, her hands curled into hard fists. Harley had been there; she knew where she lived; she knew all about her, about Barbara, Dinah and the Clocktower. And all of it thanks to her and her big mouth. She kicked wildly at another chair on the floor, enjoying the sound of it cracking. She hopped behind the bar, landing on the balls of her feet.  
  
She pulled a bottle of scotch from the rack and quickly poured herself a shot. She drained it quickly and the immediately made another. She knocked that one back as well, feeling the hot liquid burn as it coursed down her throat. She prepared herself another shot. Her mind was whirling, spinning with anger. All she could think of was that fateful night six months earlier. The night when she had let them all down.  
  
Barbara. Dinah. Alfred. Reese.  
  
Wade.  
  
She took the next swig and filled the glass again. It burned, but not enough to make her stop. Not enough to calm the nightmares and emotions.  
  
Wade.  
  
God! Wade.  
  
His death and the effect it had had on Barbara was like a knife right to the heart. It burned like hell even as it cut deeper. She drained the shot and immediately refilled it. A voice in her head screamed at her to stop or at least to slow down. She ignored it, the anger and hatred continuing to build. She wanted to cry but the tears refused to come. Instead it was like a heavy wall of guilt rested squarely on her shoulders, pushing her down into the ground. She could barely breathe beneath the weight but that hardly seemed important.  
  
She had trusted Dr. Quinzell and through that she had betrayed her family and friends and cost them all so dearly.  
  
She drank the next shot. She didn't want to think but her mind betrayed her; she hated that. She just wanted to black everything out but his face hovered in her mind.  
  
Wade.  
  
And then she saw Barbara's tears. Her anger. Her heartbreak.  
  
Helena lifted the glass to her mouth again and let the liquid flow down her throat.  
  
It wasn't burning as much anymore.  
  
*****  
  
Dinah walked into the bar, marveling at the destruction. She hadn't been there for the fight on the night before but she'd heard that it had been quite a scene. She moved a broken chair out of the way with her foot and stepped towards the stairs. She was a bit amazed to see that any of the lights downstairs were still on. Even if dimly so.  
  
She hoped that Barbara was right and that Helena really had returned home, it made it easier to keep an eye on her. Now, looking back at what she had seen in the garage, it occurred to Dinah that Helena had already been struggling with the guilt and anger even then.  
  
Dinah placed a foot on the stairs, her momentum carrying her upwards. She stopped however when she heard the sound of something rolling. It sounded like glass. She dropped back down and moved around to the opposite side of the bar.  
  
Her eyes widened in horror at what she saw. Helena was sitting on the floor with her back resting against one of the wood cabinet doors and her legs spread; her head falling over her chest and an almost empty shot glass in her right hand. Dinah saw the scotch bottle with just a bit of liquid left inside of it next to her leg.  
  
She shook her head. "Oh God! Helena!"  
  
She kneeled down next to Helena. The first thing she noticed was the brunette was clutching a wrinkled piece of paper in her left hand. She took the letter from her inebriated friend and read it. Then she whistled in frustration. "Damn." She moved the bottle away from Helena, her eyes bulging when she caught sight of another empty bottle lying a few feet away. "Helena, God, how much did you drink?"  
  
"Mmm?" the girl mumbled.  
  
Dinah placed a finger under her chin and raised her head. "Helena came on, wake up." She wondered idly if she should call for an ambulance. But then again, could metas actually get alcohol poisoning? And more to the point could Helena who always drank like a fish?  
  
Helena moved her hand back and grumbled; she tried to lie on her side but Dinah held her. "Ah no." she said holding her "You can't sleep here." She put her arm around Helena's back and helped her to stand up. Helena protested but Dinah began to walk her to the stairs. "God! You smell awful."  
  
The brunette mumbled something incomprehensible. Dinah yanked her up the stairs, struggling against Helena's nearly dead-weight. After a few long minutes she was finally standing in the hallway in front of Helena's apartment door. She slipped her hands in front of Helena and moved them into her jacket pockets.  
  
"Where are your keys?" Dinah asked. Helena leaned over her with all her weight and Dinah almost fell. She moved the drunk woman against the wall holding her with her left hand while she looked for the keys. "Helena, they're not here! Where are the keys?"  
  
"Mmm?" the brunette mumbled.  
  
"The keys, I need to open your apartment."  
  
"Its open..."  
  
Dinah sighed and opened the door. She put Helena's arm again over her shoulder and walked in. "Damn you're heavy. What have you been eating lately?" she quipped, knowing full well that her friend was in extremely good shape. They stumbled through the apartment, Dinah tugging at her, until they reached the bedroom in the back. The blonde released her arms, allowing Helena to drop against the king sized mattress. Dinah sat down beside her and started to remove Helena's leather overcoat.  
  
"Helena you need a shower. You reek of alcohol."  
  
The brunette opened her eyes and looked around "Where am I?"  
  
"In your room." Dinah took off her belt.  
  
"What are you doing? Why are you undressing me?" Helena leaned closer to her, her words slurring. "Something you want to tell me?"  
  
Dinah chose to ignore her. "You need a shower," she replied.  
  
"Hey... hey..." Helena slapped her hands away. "Don't touch. I don't need a damn shower. I'm fine."  
  
"Hel, you're drunk. You're falling down nasty ass stinking drunk," Dinah shot back. She yanked the belt loose and dropped it on the ground.  
  
"I want to sleep," Helena groaned, moving away from her. She crawled over her mattress and sunk against it, clutching her pillow to her. She looked like a small child trying to seek comfort in an inanimate object.  
  
It would have been adorable if it weren't so pathetic.  
  
Dinah grabbed at her and yanked her back up. "Nope. You need a shower first big girl. We need to get you at least somewhat back to your senses." She reached across Helena and started to unbuckle her leather pants.  
  
Helena grabbed onto the pillow with one hand and shoved away at Dinah with the other. She slid a hand over the buckle of her pants. "Dinah, no!"  
  
"Helena, dammit, stop being such a child," Dinah growled at her and she yanked the brunette back towards her. It was like some obscene form of tug of war.  
  
Helena again pushed her away, crawling back towards the top of the bed. She dug her face into the pillow. Dinah stood up from the bed, shaking her head. She crossed into the bathroom and turned on the show. She yanked off her jacket, shoes and socks. She put a hand under the shower head to test the water.  
  
Cold. Very cold.  
  
Perfect.  
  
She slipped back into the bedroom and went towards Helena who was practically asleep. Sliding an arm around her waist she hefted her into the air, ignoring the gyrations of the brunette as she tried to escape.  
  
"You're taking a shower and that's final," Dinah growled as she dropped Helena under the water.  
  
The reaction was instant as Helena cried out and tried to get away but ended up slipping and slamming her butt against the tile. She tried to climb out the tub but Dinah held on to her, keeping her under the water.  
  
"Dinah let me go!" Helena yelled as she tried to kick out. Water splattered underneath her, causing her to again lose her balance and thud to the ground.  
  
"Wake up!" Dinah shouted pushing her down. She turned the showerhead towards Helena, ensuring that the brunette was fully soaked.  
  
After a few moments of struggling Helena finally managed to shove Dinah away from her. Sputtering she rolled herself out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor.  
  
"Damn! It's cold! What the hell are you thinking?" she shouted to the blond girl.  
  
"I'm trying to keep you from passing out from alcohol poisoning," Dinah snapped back at her. "Now get in the damn shower." She reached over and grabbed a towel off the rack. She wiped her face clean of water and then bent down and turned some hot water on. She figured that her point had been made.  
  
She was wrong.  
  
"No," Helena shot back as she snagged another towel and started trying to dry herself off.  
  
"Get in the shower or I swear to God..." Dinah stopped and took a deep breath. "Next time I won't be so nice."  
  
"I'm shaking," Helena taunted. "Come on kid, bring it on."  
  
"You know what Helena?" Dinah said with a sigh. "You really are an ugly drunk." She put her hands out flat in front of her and closed her eyes, focusing all of her telekinetic powers. Helena jerked backwards, as if held by invisible hands. Her body flew up over the side of the tub and slammed against the shower wall. Helena was furious but badly disorientated from all the alcohol and Dinah was able to hold in her place with little effort.  
  
"Fine, fine!" Helena finally cried out. She sagged against the wall. Dinah released her hold on the brunette, which caused Helena to stumble a few steps. Muttering in anger Helena began to tug at her leather pants. "Fuck," she cursed as the pants stuck to her like a second skin.  
  
"What's wrong?" Dinah looked at her friend from the doorway. She continued to dry her hair, annoyed by how wet she was.  
  
"I can't take a shower with my pants on," Helena snapped back. She pushed herself up against the shower wall and continued to yank at her pants. She topped briefly, bring a hand up to her head to stop everything from spinning around her like a crazy top.  
  
"Okay," Dinah said simply, her lip lifted in amusement. "Then take them off."  
  
Helena stepped out the shower soaked and dripping water. She balanced herself against the wall and again tried to yank at them. Finally she looked up with oddest look in her eyes. "I...uh...well...I think they're stuck."  
  
"How do pants get stuck?" Dinah asked raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I take it that you've never tried to remove wet leather pants before," Helena growled.  
  
"Can't say as I have," Dinah smirked. She crossed over to Helena. "Here, let me help."  
  
Helena held up a hand. "I can do it myself," she gritted out. She jumped twice in the air, trying to force the slick leather pants down. Her head spun but she ignored it.  
  
"Fine," Dinah said with amusement. "You can do it yourself." She backed off and stood watching, her smile growing. It almost felt like poetic justice.  
  
"Dammit," Helena cried out. The alcohol in her blood was starting to burn and her stomach was growing more and more queasy by the moment. She jerked hard at her waistband, her thumb slipping beneath the fabric.  
  
"Hel," Dinah started. "Why so much?"  
  
"It's a free country," Helena grunted. "And you're not my mother."  
  
"And you're still a mean drunk," Dinah sighed. "You need coffee." She turned and walked back to the front of the apartment, towards the kitchen. She bent over the Mr. Coffee and turned it on. A loud thud from the bathroom alerted her back to Helena. Dropping the filter that she had been holding, she ran back towards the bathroom.  
  
She almost laughed when she saw Helena lying on her back, the leather pants around her knees. Dinah started towards her but Helena held up a hand to halt her. "I can handle this."  
  
"Sure," Dinah quipped. "You're doing a great job so far." She leaned against the wall to watch the show. Five minutes later she was in the same position and Helena was still struggling with the pants.  
  
"Dammit, I'm drunk and I'm stuck," Helena sulked, falling still.  
  
"You look like a big black worm," Dinah grinned.  
  
"Funny, help me."  
  
Dinah kneeled down in front of Helena and pulled at her pants. "They really are stuck," she said with a slight chuckle.  
  
"I told you so," Helena grunted. "And it's not funny."  
  
Dinah held Helena's legs with her arms. "Oh it's really funny, trust me." She scowled as she examined the stuck leather. "Maybe we need to cut them off."  
  
"Forget it," Helena snapped. "I'm drunk, not stupid. And I'm not losing a pair of pants. Do you know how expensive they were?"  
  
"No," Dinah admitted. She yanked once more and the pants finally slid down Helena, leaving her naked from the waist down save her g-string. "Now get in the shower. Let's not fight about this again, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I got it; Dinah's on a power high. Don't think I won't remember this," Helena grunted. Then she waved her hand dismissively. "Get out. I need to get undressed."  
  
Dinah grinned at her but remained silent, instead exiting the room as requested.  
  
Helena slipped under the water, feeling the warmth of it against her skin. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back the tears. Her head ached from all of the alcohol and her stomach was rolling. She felt sick.  
  
Sick of everything. Harley and the whole hero business.  
  
She stumbled out of the shower and just barely managed to get to the toilet before she started to vomit. Several minutes passed before she rolled to the ground, parched and exhausted.  
  
After a few seconds she finally found her feet again. She rinsed her mouth out with water and then stepped into her bedroom. She dressed quickly, yanking on boxers and a tee shirt. She slipped into the kitchen and headed straight towards her makeshift bar that was in the corner of the room.  
  
Just before she could lift up a bottle of Jack Daniels, Dinah placed a hand over hers. "Helena, no. You've had enough."  
  
Helena's eyes dilated into cat's eyes. "Leave me alone."  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
Helena knew she couldn't blame the blond girl, but she wanted be alone. She put her hands over the small bar and lowering her head she whispered: "You did enough, let me alone."  
  
Dinah felt sadness for her. "I read the letter..."  
  
Helena brushed her hand through her hair. She grabbed at the bottle of JD and headed back towards her bedroom. "Go away," she muttered behind her.  
  
Dinah felt the anger surge through her. Reaching out towards her friend, she snatched the bottle away from the brunette. She threw it to the ground, victorious when it smashes into several large pieces of glass, the brown liquid seeping into the carpet.  
  
Helena spun hard on her and advanced just as quickly. She took Dinah by the collar of her shirt and lifted her up in the air, snarling in rage. "Don't piss me off kid. I'm really not in the mood for you tonight."  
  
"Helena, stop."  
  
"Leave me the hell alone. Get out of here," Helena ordered as she released Dinah. She crossed back over to the bar but the blonde pushed herself in the way. Helena gave her violent shove, knocking Dinah back towards the kitchen table. She stumbled over the chair, just barely managing to keep her balance. She stood back up and shoved herself into Helena, tackling her against the cold tile.  
  
"I'm not going to let you do this!" Dinah yelled. "You're going to kill yourself."  
  
The two girls started to struggle, each looking for an opening in the others' defenses. Helena felt something in her snap and she lashed out with a vicious cross to Dinah's left cheek. Then she used her feet to shove the blonde away from her and she stumbled to her feet. Dinah placed a hand to her lip. She could taste blood in her mouth. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and then charged up at Helena who had recovered a new bottle from the bar. She grabbed her around the waist and slamming her back against the ground. Helena growled as the bottle rolled from her fingers and stopped under the table.  
  
Dinah pulled her fist back and cracked Helena across the jaw. "Stop this," she hissed. Dinah pushed at her shoulders, holding her against the ground.  
  
Helena spun away from her. Blinded by both her anger and the alcohol, she lunged out and viciously slapped at Dinah. Taking her by the blouse, she threw her against the small wood bar breaking it. Part of the heavy furniture crumbled over Dinah, pinning her legs beneath her. Helena jumped atop the wooden shambles, pushing all of her weight down on Dinah. The blonde screamed in pain as a sickening crack echoed through the room.  
  
Helena reacted in horror, quickly retreating from her friend and stumbling back against the door. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the damaged kitchen and her fallen friend. Dinah was lying on the ground, bent over in agony and bleeding from a nasty cut on her lip.  
  
"My leg!" Dinah cried clenching her teeth.  
  
"Oh God, Dinah, I'm sorry," Helena stammered, feeling her stomach roll again.  
  
Dinah tried to push the furniture off of her but it was far too heavy and she was far too unsteady. Helena bounded over to her, ignorant of her own dizziness and began to shove the broken wood off of her.  
  
"You're such a fucking idiot," Dinah cried out, her face quenched in pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks.  
  
Helena knelt down beside her and with a shaking hand reached out for Dinah. She ran her fingers over the ankle that Dinah was holding. The blonde jumped under the contact. Helena grimaced, immediately furious with herself for losing control. It was one thing for her to do things to herself but she'd allowed the anger and alcohol to again hurt someone close to her. That was unacceptable.  
  
"I think it's sprained," Helena muttered, more hopeful than sure. "We should get it wrapped to slow the swelling."  
  
"Why the hell did you have to jump on it?" Dinah snapped, clenching her teeth against the pain. She took a deep breath. "It feels like it's broken."  
  
Helena shook her head desperately. "I don't know. We...we should get you checked out. Hospital?" She immediately dismissed the idea. There would be too many questions and likely unwanted blood tests. "We should get you back to the Clocktower so Barbara can check your ankle out."  
  
Dinah glanced up at Helena and noticed that the fog seemed to have lifted. She took a deep breath, wincing in pain. "Hel," she started. "It's not your fault what happened to Wade. Harley is trying to hurt you again. You and Barbara."  
  
Helena shook her head. "You don't understand."  
  
"I understand you. Barbara understands you. We know you. Stop trying to hurt yourself, Wade's death wasn't your fault! This is exactly what Harley wants. She's trying to destroy you." She paused for effect. "Don't give her the pleasure. Don't let her win."  
  
"Please, I don't want talk about this." Helena said in low voice. She didn't know how to face the fact that Harley was free. She didn't quite know how to deal with the reality of her own dark sins. All that happened to Barbara and Dinah and Wade. It was all about to come flying back at her. She bent down and slipped a hand under Dinah, lifting her into the air. "Let's get back to the Clocktower." 


	3. Talking

The woman who went by the codename of Oracle exited the lab with a weary groan. The door shut behind her and she moved further towards the control center.  
  
For several long moments all Helena heard was the soft whirling of her mentor's chair as the redhead circled behind her and slid up the ramp towards the bay of computers. "You're pissed," she started hesitantly.  
  
Barbara didn't look up. She started to type on the keyboard, her green eyes burning into the LCD in front of her. The screen flashed light back on her face, which reflected in her glasses. Finally with a dramatic sigh she turned towards Helena, "I'm not sure I know what to say right now."  
  
"Say anything," Helena Kyle pleaded, taking a step towards her old friend. She moved around to stand in front of Barbara. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Helena, you're always sorry. You know, I'd have long since forced you into AA if I actually thought it'd do you any good," Barbara muttered, still not meeting Helena's wide blue eyes.  
  
"I'm not an alcoholic," Helena replied. She shook her head. "I lost it. I was stupid."  
  
"No," Barbara agreed. "You're not an alcoholic and you're not stupid but you are irresponsible and reckless." She leaned back in her chair and finally gazed up at Helena. "This time you went too far."  
  
Helena swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to..."  
  
"Dammit Helena, you broke her ankle," Barbara snapped, her irritation growing. A voice in her head told her to calm down and that this would do neither of them any good but she was long past that. So much had been boiling between them for so long and now it was finally starting to leak out.  
  
Helena stumbled back a step, stunned by the anger she heard in the redhead's voice. Barbara Gordon was always under control and she rarely allowed for strong displays of emotion. "It's broken?"  
  
"Yes, it's broken. She's going to be off her feet for at least two weeks. That means you'll be handling sweeps by yourself."  
  
Helena lifted an eyebrow. "No offense but that's not that big of a deal."  
  
Barbara shook her head. "You don't get it do you? We're a team, Helena. We're only as strong as our weakest link."  
  
"Are you saying that's me?" Helena asked, her voice very low and almost childlike.  
  
Barbara looked up at her, locking eyes. "Yes."  
  
Helena stepped away, taken aback. For a brief moment Barbara considered telling Helena that she was wrong and that her words were a mistake. The stunned look on Helena's face horrified her. Closing her eyes she steeled herself to continue the argument.  
  
It was time.  
  
It was high bloody time.  
  
"I'm sorry," Helena finally stammered. She continued stepping back, like she was searching for an escape route.  
  
"Are you going to run again?" Barbara challenged, warily watching her young former ward inch towards the elevator. "What's going on with you? When did you become such a coward?"  
  
It worked like a charm.  
  
Helena snapped around, blue eyes now angry instead of defeated. Rage boiled up through her and she clenched her hands into tight fists. "I'm not a coward," she roared. "I go out every fucking night and risk my life and I'm a coward?"  
  
"Oh lose it," Barbara said mildly, intentionally attempting to get under Helena's skin. There was a lot that needed to be said and Barbara wasn't naïve enough to believe that it would all come out in one evening but she wanted to get the ball rolling. "You do it because of the thrill of the hunt and because you like violence."  
  
Helena's growled. "I do it because you want me to. I do it because your damned mission is so important."  
  
"Keep telling yourself that," Barbara shot back. "I just can't figure out why. I can't figure out what it is inside of you that is so damaged and so ugly that you can't look in a mirror and see what you are."  
  
"What I am?" Helena demanded. "I know what I am. I'm the weakest fucking link, ain't that right oh great Oracle?"  
  
"Helena," Barbara chastised. "Stop being a child."  
  
The brunette started to pace in front of the desk, keeping her head low and glaring down at the floor. She could still feel the effects of the alcohol in her system but her anger and fear pushed the dizziness away. Her eyes were dilated into hard blue slits and her mouth pulled back into a thin line. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"I want you to grow up and start taking some damn responsibility for the things you do," Barbara snapped. She immediately regretted her words, knowing exactly how her young protégé would choose to take them.  
  
"I do take responsibility," Helena murmured in response. She looked up at Barbara, her eyes returning to their normal form. "I'm responsible for Wade being dead. I mean, that's what you're getting at, right?"  
  
"No," Barbara said, shaking her head. "You know I should have realized it a long time ago that this is what's been bothering you so much. God, I don't know how I missed it." She took her glasses off and gazed out at Helena. "Listen to me, I don't blame you for his death."  
  
"You should," Helena replied, the anger mounting again.  
  
"I'm not gonna play this game with you, Helena. You want to keep blaming yourself; you go ahead and do that. You go ahead and let yourself be torn apart it. What you did tonight, I don't have words for it."  
  
Helena laughed bitterly. "You have words for everything."  
  
Barbara nodded. "I am angry at you. No, I'm pissed off. What happened with Wade was an accident but tonight you crossed the line. Dinah went there to help you and you hurt her. And by doing so, you hurt the whole team."  
  
"So am I off the team?" Helena shot back, trying to be flip. She was trying to act like it didn't matter. Like she didn't care.  
  
Barbara wasn't buying but she decided to press on. "There are going to have to be changes around here." She pressed her nails into the soft pad of her armrest.  
  
"Changes? Am I grounded?"  
  
Barbara smiled but it wasn't a very friendly one. "Something like that. I don't trust you to be on your own anymore..."  
  
Helena stepped back and away. "No," she said, her voice flashing with raw emotion. "No."  
  
"If you want to stay a part of the team well then you'll have to move back in here." Barbara sighed loudly. "You can't keep taking out all of your anger on everyone around you. You just can't." She took a deep breath. "Act like a child Helena and you'll be treated like one."  
  
Helena slammed her hand on the desk. "You know what, fuck you and fuck all of this!"  
  
"Guys..." a voice said from the door. Neither turned towards it, both so intent on staring at each other. The tension in the room was unbearable.  
  
Barbara wheeled down the ramp and moved in front of Helena, reaching out to grab her hands. Helena tried to evade her but the effects of the alcohol slowed her enough to give the redhead the advantage. She yanked Helena towards her. "Enough dammit. Enough of this." She spun Helena around, forcing her to look at one of the monitors. "Harley escaped earlier this evening and God only knows what she's up to and your answer is to get drunk and beat on your best friend?"  
  
"Guys..."  
  
"I had a bad night," Helena spat back at her. Her eyes were wide and she looked like a caged animal. Just the same, Barbara had seen the brunette enraged before and this certainly wasn't that. This felt more like she was phoning it all in. Fighting just for the sake of it.  
  
"You could have talked to me," Barbara replied. "But you never do. We could have gotten through all of this a long time ago but no, your answer is to drink yourself to death." She sighed. "You keep doing this to yourself. One of these days you're gonna get yourself in way over your head."  
  
"I'm fine," Helena replied softly.  
  
"But Dinah's not. You hurt her, Helena. You hurt her."  
  
Helena staggered back, looking defeated. She dropped her head. "I know," she finally said. She looked up with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I'm okay," Dinah said from behind them. She hopped into the room, her injured foot up in the air. The visual was so absurd that it actually forced a reluctant smile out of Helena. "Just a little break."  
  
"Dinah," Barbara warned. "Go lie down." She pointed back towards the lab.  
  
"No," the blonde replied, placing herself between the two women. Barbara slid back a few feet, arms crossed over her chest but a strange look of almost bemusement on her face. "We can't do this," Dinah continued.  
  
"Dinah, you shouldn't be up," Helena choked out. She roughly wiped at the edges of her eyes, angry with herself for the tears that had begun forming.  
  
"Well I am, so deal," Dinah replied. She glanced over at Barbara. "You can't make her move in here. You can't take away her freedom. She made a mistake, we all have."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. "I'm listening."  
  
Dinah nodded, momentarily satisfied. She turned to Helena, stumbling a bit. She held out her hand to stop both of the women from coming to her aide. She felt tired and drugged thanks to the morphine that Barbara had given her a little bit earlier. Just the same, she wanted to say what she had to say. It was important.  
  
Crucial really.  
  
"And you, you need to shut your mouth and open your ears. We're here for you; we've always been here for you. You're not alone. Stop acting like you are and stop pushing us all away. You've been like the walking dead since Wade died. You're not okay, you can't say that you are."  
  
Helena remained silent but a single tear trickled down her cheek. She pushed it roughly away.  
  
"Helena," Barbara started slowly. "Whatever you think, whatever is going on inside of you right now, believe me, I've been there." She moved her chair around Dinah so that she was facing Barbara. Using her left arm she swept out and yanked Dinah down into her lap. The blonde let out a soft shriek as she tumbled. "I said stay down," Barbara commented wryly.  
  
Helena smirked. "I should have warned you about that."  
  
Dinah made a face but said nothing.  
  
Barbara chuckled but then quickly grew serious again. "Look, we'll make it through this. We always make it through. We'll be okay." She patted Dinah's hand drawing a scowl from the blonde.  
  
"Not a dog," Dinah commented.  
  
Barbara smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."  
  
Helena snorted in amusement. Then she sighed and looked at Dinah. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
  
"Eh," Dinah laughed. "First off I'm too drugged to be mad. Morphine good. Morphine very good." She paused for a beat to allow the chuckles from the two women to pass. "And second, I know what this is all about. You just wanted to do the whole lone vigilante bit again." She shrugged. "I don't blame, I mean, I've been kinda coping your rep as of late."  
  
"Oh dream on," Helena shot back, her eyes brightening. The tension slid away from her body and she relaxed her posture. The storm had passed. She glanced towards Barbara. "Are we okay?"  
  
"We're okay," Barbara confirmed. "But eventually I'm going to make you talk. Even if that means strapping you to a chair."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Helena replied. She was trying to be sarcastic but much of her energy was gone and her tone was too weary to have much punch.  
  
"In the meanwhile, I want both of you in bed. Now. Helena, Dinah's right, I can't make you live here. I know you need your own space. Tonight however..."  
  
Helena held up her hands. "Consider me sacked."  
  
"Good." Then she looked at Dinah and frowned. "When did she fall asleep?"  
  
Helena lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't notice." Then she cocked her head. "Is she drooling on you?"  
  
"Yes," Barbara muttered. She placed a hand under Dinah's chin and lifted her face. "I'm going to take her to bed. You get there too." She started to move away and then stopped. She didn't turn to face Helena but she spoke her words very slowly. "Believe it or not, Hel, we're in this together. I'm never going to walk out on you. I'm never going to let you fall."  
  
Helena opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. She just watched in silence as Barbara slid into the elevator. The doors closed behind her and Helena finally blew out air, forming a perfect "o" with her mouth. She chuckled a bit nervously. Then she started for the stairs.  
  
Sleep was calling but there was something she wanted to do first.  
  
Someone she wanted to talk to.  
  
Someone who always made her feel better. 


	4. confusion

"Well what exactly were you expecting?" he replied shortly. "You're kind of a pain in the ass when you want to be."  
  
She blinked and cleared her throat. "Reese?"  
  
"Still me Helena," Jesse Reese replied, his voice unusually hard. He sounded irritated. In fact he had sounded much like this ever since he had picked up the phone minutes earlier.  
  
"Right," she muttered. She decided to change the subject. "So I take it you had no luck finding Harley?"  
  
"Don't you think I would have told you if I did?  
  
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up from some great dream or something?"  
  
"No," he said gruffly. "I guess I'm just confused. You and Barbara got into a fight because you drank too much and made a fool of yourself. I guess I just don't see the emergency. Hardly a new thing. Why the urgent late night call?"  
  
"Obviously a bad idea," she murmured. She pulled the phone away from her ear and gazed at it. She touched the flat of her palm against her forehead. Her hand was starting to feel like a steel drum and she wondered if maybe she was imagining his tone and he was playing with her.  
  
That was certainly possible right?  
  
Had to be.  
  
Even when he'd been ticked at her and those times had been many, he'd never spoken to her in such a manner. Never been such a jerk.  
  
"Yeah, obviously," he confirmed. She heard a strange rustling noise behind him. She couldn't quite pin down what it was but it sent alarms racing through her.  
  
"Jesse," she said softly. "Where are you?"  
  
"Out," he said simply. "And in the middle of something."  
  
She swallowed hard. "Are you alone?"  
  
"I don't have time for this," he snapped. "Call me back when you want to actually be an adult, Helena. I don't have time for your games."  
  
"Right," she said, feeling her eyes fill with tears. She closed her eyes and forced them back. She wasn't the type to let a man get so far under her skin, even one that she had such strong feelings for. "Bye."  
  
"See ya," he said gruffly. The line clicked off a moment later.  
  
She stared at the headset, shaking her head. She had seen him just hours earlier and they'd had a hell of an evening. In fact if not for returning to check on Barbara and Harley escaping, she rather figured that she'd still be lying in his arms back in his apartment.  
  
So what the hell had changed?  
  
And who was he with?  
  
And why?  
  
Reese wasn't the kind of man to cheat but he had been acting so strangely. So out of character.  
  
Helena dropped back against her pillows, her sore and exhausted body crying out in protest as it thumped against the mattress. Her head was spinning and her stomach was in knots.  
  
She pushed herself back to her feet and stumbled towards her bathroom. She yanked the medicine cabinet open and began to sift through the various bottles there. She finally located a red container. She snapped the cap off and dropped a single green and white pill into her mouth. She considered a second one and then took that one as well. She put the bottle back in and closed the mirror.  
  
She used a Dixie cup to draw water. She looked at the pills and then knocked them back. They were standard low dosage sleeping pills. They didn't have any more strength than Tylenol PM but they would get the job done just fine.  
  
She slid back under her sheets and yanked the quilt up to her chin. She turned towards her pillow and pressed her face into the soft red cotton of her sheets.  
  
Her mind continued to whirl and turn.  
  
She figured it would until the drugs kicked in.  
  
Hopefully that would be soon.  
  
Very soon.  
  
* * *  
  
She ran her fingers through her wet hair and brushed several stuck strands of crimson away from her forehead. She sighed impatiently, irritated by the rebellious nature of her mane.  
  
"Bad hair day?" Helena Kyle quipped as she stepped into the kitchen. She was dressed in men's faded green and black flannels and a Gotham Knights tee shirt that hung down over her beltline. The visual would have been astonishing in it's departure from the norm if not for the fact that this was vintage Helena first thing in the morning.  
  
"No," Barbara Gordon protested, probably with more strength than was actually necessary. She tried to cover it up by smiling. "Good morning."  
  
Helena just grunted. She glanced across at Barbara's plate and frowned. "No Alfred?"  
  
Barbara looked down and grimaced at the piece of blackened toast sitting in front of her. She had tried to butter it up to make it eatable but it really was little more than charcoal now. "He has the day off. The uh, toaster, I think it's broken."  
  
"Sure," Helena chuckled. She crossed over to one of the cupboards and yanked it open. She brightened considerably when she saw a box of Trix sitting on the second shelf. She pulled it out, opened it and gazed inside. "Damn Dinah" she muttered.  
  
"You did break her ankle," Barbara said mildly. "I think she has the right to eat your cereal."  
  
"She never has the right to eat my cereal," Helena shot back. She yanked a bowl out of the cupboard and poured what was left in the box into it. It was only about small cups worth. She dumped milk on top of it and sullenly dropped into a chair opposite Barbara. "Where is she?"  
  
"Sleeping," Barbara replied hesitantly. "She was in pain this morning so I gave her some more morphine. She's dead out."  
  
"Oh," Helena said quietly, staring down at the bowl of cereal, her appetite suddenly gone.  
  
Barbara reached across and touched her hand. "It's okay. She's okay. I'm worried about you now."  
  
"I'm okay," Helena grumbled, her eyes still on the cereal. She put a finger into the bowl and stirred it.  
  
"Don't play with your food," Barbara chastised. "Helena, look at me." She put a finger under her protégé's chin and lifted it. "Look at me."  
  
"I am," Helena replied, clearly not. Barbara held her face in place until the brunette finally reluctantly made eye contact. "What?"  
  
"We can't keep doing this. You and me, we have to find a way through this. We both have to deal with it."  
  
"It?" Helena countered, trying to play dumb.  
  
Barbara smiled slightly. "Wade," she said softly. "Neither one of us have gotten over him." She paused. "Maybe we're not meant to just yet."  
  
"I won't hurt her again," Helena said in a small voice, finally breaking eye contact. She looked back down at the now slightly pinkish milk in the bowl. She fished a banana shaped morsel out and popped it into her mouth.  
  
"I know," Barbara insisted. "And I know last night was an accident. Helena, I know you better than anyone else. I do." She took a deep breath. "But last night when I asked you what it was inside of you that makes you hate yourself so much, I wasn't joking around and those weren't just words."  
  
Helena lifted up one of her hands and began to rub at the lines on her palm with her other thumb. She stared down, not saying anything. After a few moments of silence she lifted her forefinger and thumb to her lip and gently chewed on the flesh on the tip. "I don't hate myself," she finally muttered. "I just....I just keep letting you down."  
  
"You promised me once that you wouldn't run from me again. You remember?"  
  
"Yeah," Helena nodded. "When we had to take down Harley."  
  
"Right. So stop running."  
  
Helena chuckled self-depreciatively. "I don't run."  
  
"Only sometimes you do."  
  
"Only sometimes I do," Helena admitted. "Okay," she finally sighed. "What do you want from me?"  
  
Barbara smiled softly. "I want you to tell me why you can't accept it when I tell you I don't blame you?"  
  
Helena shrugged. She stood up and took the bowl over to the sink. She dumped it out and turned on the garbage disposal. Almost immediately a horrific grinding noise echoed through the room.  
  
"Turn the water on," Barbara called out, wincing.  
  
"Oh yeah," Helena grinned, not so much annoyed at the sound. She spun the cold water on and the sound quickly muted into a soft rumbling. Once the soggy Trix had watched away, she turned back towards her mentor. "Wanna work out?"  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. "You're changing the subject."  
  
"I'm not," Helena insisted. "But if I'm gonna get all talky, I'd prefer to be kicking something at the same time."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Barbara quipped. She glanced down at herself and then snorted. She was wearing a tank top, beyond that it didn't really matter what she was wearing. She looked at Helena. "In your flannels?"  
  
Helena laughed, this time more genuinely. "Sure. I can still kick your ass in sleepwear."  
  
"Yeah, that'll be a first. I mean that you could kick my ass at all," Barbara grinned, wheeling away from the table. Helena followed a feet behind, glancing down at the flannel fabric that was dragging on the ground. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable clothing to work out in but she didn't want to change just to have to do it again after a shower.  
  
Barbara turned to face her protégé once they entered the training room. "Sticks?"  
  
Helena shrugged. "Don't really use them."  
  
"I know," Barbara said dryly. "But it never..."  
  
"Hurts to add them to the arsenal, blah blah blah..."  
  
Barbara made a face. "It thrills me how much you listen to me."  
  
"Every word you say," Helena grinned. She spun suddenly and snapped off a hard right cross towards Barbara. The redhead reacted instantly, her hand going up to block the blow. She retaliated with a punch of her own that Helena easily dodged.  
  
"Nice," Barbara said appreciatively. "But you're still leaving your side open."  
  
"No I'm not," Helena protested, spinning around and kicking out.  
  
Barbara grabbed one of the escrima sticks and struck out at the brunette's leg, clipping her hard just above the kneecap. Helena hit the mat with a thud. She looked up, her eyes dancing. She loved sparring with her mentor, it was always a hell of a workout.  
  
"Okay," Barbara said as she blocked another hard punch, "Talk."  
  
"Talk?"  
  
"Helena," Barbara warned.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, well there's not much to say."  
  
Barbara sighed. She really should have known better. Of course it wasn't going to be easy. More like pulling teeth. "Are you having dreams?"  
  
Helena jumped in the air and spun down to Barbara's side, going straight for the wheel of the chair. Barbara had long ago taught her to ignore an opponent's apparent weakness and to perceive them as an extension of the individual. Therefore, they were fair game too.  
  
Barbara of course knew her fighting style like the back of her hand. She placed the stick between the chair and Helena's foot and then used it to bounce the smaller girl away. Helena tumbled a few inches and then did a back flip and landed on the balls of her feet, already prepping for a new attack.  
  
"Yes," Helena admitted. "A few." She shrugged. "I have dreams about everything."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow, a curious smile coming over her face. "Everything?"  
  
Almost immediately Helena's stance faltered and her mood darkened. "Everything," she repeated, her voice suddenly very thick.  
  
She charged Barbara, anger now in her eyes. Barbara shook her head and narrowed her eyes. She crossed the sticks and then slammed them directly into Helena's chest. The brunette flew several feet backwards and slammed down to the mat.  
  
"That was sloppy," Barbara said sternly. "You lost your focus."  
  
Helena pushed herself up to an elbow. She slammed her hand against the mat and then shoved herself up. "Getting a little cocky aren't we Gordon?"  
  
Barbara rolled her eyes. She'd seen this before. This was vintage Helena, especially when something had hurt her. Well, as usual the first part of the whole event would be knocking her back on her ass.  
  
Then she's force the truth out of her.  
  
Helena swung around and punched out with her left hand. She followed it with a quick right that glanced off of Barbara's jaw. The redhead hissed but quickly responded by slugging Helena across the face.  
  
Helena fell back, stunned. She put a hand to her cheek. "Ouch."  
  
Barbara smirked. "What, you thought I was just gonna let you get your kicks in?"  
  
"No," Helena muttered, standing back up. "But that was a cheap shot."  
  
"Was not," Barbara shot back.  
  
"Was too."  
  
"Uh huh," Barbara chuckled. She turned away from the brunette and grabbed at a towel that was on a nearby rack. She wiped sweat away and then tossed another towel to Helena. "So, what just happened there?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Bullshit. I asked you what you were dreaming about your response, that wasn't about Wade."  
  
Helena nodded slowly. "Reese."  
  
Barbara frowned. "Reese? I didn't know there was anything wrong? Weren't you just with him last night? I mean, did something happen?"  
  
Helena chuckled but it wasn't humorous. "Wish to God I knew."  
  
"I don't understand..."  
  
"When I left Reese last night, everything was great or at least I thought it was. He didn't want me to go. He was even trying to talk me out of it."  
  
"So why did you?"  
  
Helena looked away. "Had to check on you."  
  
Barbara smiled. "I'm feeling much better, thanks. I can even breathe through my nose now."  
  
Helena snorted. "Well that's a plus because Dinah's says you've been keeping her awake all weak with your snoring."  
  
"Hey I only do that when I'm sick and by the way, don't think I don't know what you just tried to do. Get back to Reese young lady."  
  
"Eh," Helena shrugged. "Had to try."  
  
"Yes, I know. Reese."  
  
"I don't know, Barbara. I don't know what happened. I talked to him before I went back to my apartment. He said he was going out with McNally to look for Harley."  
  
"Same as when I talked to him," Barbara said with a nod.  
  
"Then last night I called him and he blew me off." She shook her head. "No he didn't blow me off, he was a fucking prick." She started to pace, her agitation obvious.  
  
"That doesn't make sense. What did he say?"  
  
"He told me not to bother him with my childish issues." She paused. "And he was with someone. He got really angry when I asked who..."  
  
"Helena..."  
  
"I know," Helena said, holding up a hand to halt her mentor. "I mean I know. I do. That's not Reese." She chewed her lip. "But what if it is?"  
  
"Reese would never cheat on you," Barbara said firmly. "He wouldn't. Look I don't know what happened last night but I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. He was probably stressed out after being out all night looking for Harley."  
  
"Yeah," Helena said, kicking the mat with the toe of her sock. "I know. I just...I mean..."  
  
"You're afraid he might be," Barbara said simply. "You have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Go talk to him. You know Hel, it's not like you always see things crystal clear."  
  
"Gee thanks for the vote of confidence," Helena said dryly.  
  
"That's not a knock on you," Barbara protested. "But last night was a really bad night for you and you were pretty drunk. Maybe..."  
  
"Maybe I read it wrong," she finished. "Yeah I know. I keep thinking that too." She placed a hand to her head. "God I'd almost forgotten about the hangover. Sleeping pills and all."  
  
Barbara made a face. "You shouldn't mix that much alcohol with sleeping pills. It's very dangerous."  
  
"Thanks mom."  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
"I know. I'm okay, really. Barbara, really, I swear."  
  
"Uh huh," the redhead mentored. She sighed. "Fine but I'm not giving you any aspirin to deal with the hangover. You're gonna have to gut this one out."  
  
"Bitch," Helena grunted.  
  
"Aren't you pleasant," Barbara laughed. "We done here or did you need another ass kicking?"  
  
"Keep it up," Helena said with a smile. "Just keep it up."  
  
"I'm shaking," Barbara taunted, grinning widely.  
  
"You should be." Then she shook her head. "But alas no, I can't put you in your place today. It'll have to wait until later."  
  
"Alas? When did you start saying that?"  
  
"Hey I can sound intelligent," Helena protested.  
  
"Sure, hey, okay, yeah," Barbara chuckled. "Didn't say otherwise."  
  
"Bite me," Helena groaned. "I'm gonna go shower."  
  
"And Reese?"  
  
Helena took a deep breath. "I guess I'd better just go to the source." She brightened slightly. "He can tell me I'm being a dope to my face."  
  
"Or something to your face," Barbara quipped.  
  
Helena widened her eyes scandalously. "Barbara!"  
  
The redhead just snorted. "Go shower." 


	5. Looking for a trace

The blonde turned her head slightly and stared down at the little bald man. "I don't like excuses," she reminded him. She tapped her wrist, indicating an invisible watch. "Time."  
  
"Yes," he stammered. "I know."  
  
"Yes what?" she demanded. She glared at him. "Yes what?"  
  
"Yes ma'am?"  
  
Doctor Harleen Qunizell shook her head. "No, that doesn't work for me. Yes Master. Try that on."  
  
"Yes Master?" the bald man said haltingly.  
  
She brightened considerably. "Yes, I like that." She brushed her hair away from her face. She touched the little mans' head and rubbed her fingers over the smooth skin. "Did you talk to Boyd?"  
  
"Yes," he replied. "Yes Master," he quickly added.  
  
"What did he say?" Harley asked, still touching the man.  
  
"He said he'd do it. He said he'd do it cheap. That girl...the one you want him lie to...she pissed him off."  
  
Harley grinned. "She does that to a lot of people." She chuckled and moved away from him. "But not for much longer."  
  
"Uh why?" he asked, not sure he wanted the answer.  
  
She wrinkled her nose and giggled. "Because I'm gonna break her."  
  
"Oh," he said, stepping away.  
  
She sigh, exasperated and annoyed. She shrugged. "I don't need you anymore." She spun back towards him, a pistol in her hand. She fired two shots. The first one ripped into his shoulder, knocking him back. The second one tore through his skull, killing him instantly.  
  
She just laughed and clapped her hands.  
  
"Now that was fun."  
  
* * *  
  
She crouched down low against the asphalt of the rooftop. Narrowing her eyes she peered out over the city, searching desperately for her target. She had been looking for him all day but to no avail. He usually wasn't quite so adept at hiding from her and it was really starting to annoy the hell out of her.  
  
Rain slopped down around her, pressing her hair to her face. The leather she was wearing stuck to her body, almost like a second skin. Just the same, she enjoyed the coolness of the night. It was refreshing.  
  
"Huntress?"  
  
Helena pressed her fingers against the earring in her left ear. "I'm here, Oracle. What's up?"  
  
"There are alarms going off at 3rd and Cortez. Down by the Uniform Depot."  
  
"What the hell would someone want from there?"  
  
"Service uniforms. Police. Fire. EMT."  
  
"Dress-up?"  
  
Barbara laughed. "Wherever you're going with that, stop."  
  
"Wasn't going anywhere," Helena grinned deviously. "Shows how much you know me."  
  
"Uh huh," Barbara snorted. "Should I call you a liar now or wait until we're face to face again?"  
  
"Eh, you decide," Helena said lightly, her eyes still scanning the night. "Okay, I guess I'm on my way then."  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Try again."  
  
"You're such a pain in the ass, Gordon."  
  
"Uh huh, what's wrong?"  
  
Helena sighed. She took a deep breath. She had never been much for the whole talking thing but somehow she felt like she owed Barbara. "Reese," she said, her voice low.  
  
"No luck finding him?"  
  
"None," she muttered as she sped towards a rooftop across from the one she'd been on. She jumped and easily cleared the gap between the two, landing on the balls of her feet. The hangover that she had started the day with had long passed and now her mind was just buzzing apparently for the hell of it.  
  
"That's strange," Barbara admitted it. "Do you want me to check on it?"  
  
"No," Helena said quickly, perhaps too quickly. She took a breath and then continued. "No, I can deal with this. I'm sure it's nothing. He probably just went to see his mother."  
  
"Okay," Barbara said cautiously. She didn't want to push but she could tell that Helena wasn't as confident about Reese as she was trying to suggest. "Are you sure? It's really not a problem..."  
  
"It's never a problem for you to snoop," Helena laughed. "Okay, I'm right above the Uniform Depot."  
  
"What do you see?"  
  
"Two...no three...yeah, three guys."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Impatient aren't we?"  
  
"Huntress, what's going on down there?" Barbara asked, irritation in her tone. Usually she was fine with playing games with her young charge but her nerves were on edge right now. Any and all crime around New Gotham right now had to be viewed as suspicious, especially with Harley free. In fact, rather because Harley was on the loose.  
  
"Dunno," Helena replied curtly. "I'm dropping in."  
  
She bounced down from the roof and dropped in front of one of the men who was exiting the store. A loud alarm echoed through the night, assaulting her ears. The man who was wearing a mask with four holes in it jerked his head up at her. She could see his eyes widen. She smiled. "Having a good night?"  
  
The guy grunted. He dropped the white boxes that he had been carrying and swung at her. She stepped back, easily evading the blow. She let him try again, this time laughing when he stumbled forward, his balance hopelessly lost. She pressed the toe of her boot into his back and gave him a hard shove, pushing him into the mud. Water splashed up around him, disturbed by the hard impact of his oversized body.  
  
He flailed his arms, trying to get back up but she kept him down, pressing her boot into the back of his neck. "You should see this guy," she commented into her comm. "He looks like a fish."  
  
"Don't play with your food," Barbara scolded even though it was obvious that she was amused. "What about the other two?"  
  
"Hang on," Helena replied. She kicked out and nailed the thug in the face. He grunted and then fell unconscious into the mud. She moved away from him and went over to the discarded boxes. She opened the first one and looked in. "Police uniforms."  
  
"That's what I suspected," Barbara commented. "Okay, round up the other two."  
  
"On it," Helena replied. She dropped the boxes and move quickly through the shattered glass doors of the Uniform Depot. The store was dark but she could still plainly make out the large form of a big man leaning over the cash register. Looking around she noticed that the three cameras scattered around the store had already been shot out. Well that was certainly helpful.  
  
"Mommy didn't give you an allowance this week?" Helena taunted, easily settling her body into an aggressive posture.  
  
The guy glanced behind him and Helena saw another man appear. Thug Number Two then. This one was smaller and skinnier but beyond that a mask hid his facial features. "Shoot the bitch," he growled, his voice muffled.  
  
The big one lifted up a pistol and fired. Helena groaned and then jerked her body to the side, doing an easy back flip.  
  
"Huntress?"  
  
"Fine, fine," she muttered. "It's always about the guns. Men and their penis metaphors."  
  
"That was bad even for you," Barbara chided. "Entirely too obvious."  
  
"Sorry," Helena said as she launched herself into the air. She came down atop of the big mans' shoulder. He shrieked in protest as she used her legs to cut off his oxygen. She spun him around under her and dropped him like a sack of potatoes. One more kick to the gut and he was out.  
  
She turned towards the little man and grinned, a surely predatory thing. Her eyes dilated. "Come on," she rumbled. "Give me a fight."  
  
The guy picked up a box and threw it at her. It fell open as it took flight, clothing dropping out of it and thudding against the ground. A blue blazer stared upwards, one of its buttons broken. He went to his gun next and began to fire off shots.  
  
"I think I pissed him off," Helena quipped, dodging behind the counter.  
  
"Yeah, what else is new?" Barbara asked. Helena could hear the sound of typing in the background.  
  
"I don't always piss everyone off," Helena protested. She reached down and picked up a gold plated ashtray that was sitting on one of the shelves in front of the counter. After momentarily wondering what it was doing in a store for uniforms, she then decided that it would make an adequate weapon.  
  
"No, just everyone you've ever fought."  
  
"Oh, I'm just heartbroken," Helena drawled. She waited until the gunfire had stopped and she could hear the little man moving around towards her. She stood up abruptly and tossed the ashtray at him. It hit him right in the throat and sent him gurgling backwards. He fell to the ground, eyes wide in horror. He put a hand over the wound, blood seeping between his fingers. He moved his mouth like he was trying to say something but nothing came out.  
  
Just the same, a creative reading of his lips told her everything she needed to know. "That's just rude," she laughed. "Oh you'll live," she added as she stood above him. "Live to get your ass kicked by me another day I imagine." She turned away from him and touched her earring. "I'm done here. Are the blue and whites on their way?"  
  
"They should be just about on top of you," Barbara replied. "Time for you to make an exit."  
  
"Right," Helena agreed. She glanced back down at the gasping thug on the ground. He was still breathing and still trying to curse at her. He wasn't doing either very well but with help for him just moments away, he looked like he'd be okay.  
  
She stepped out of the store and slid into the alley next to it just as three police patrol cars pulled up in front of the store. Several officers filed out and into the vandalized store, all of them with guns drawn.  
  
She smirked, satisfied. "We're definitely done here," she said into her comm.  
  
"Then get home. It's pouring out there and the last thing we need to deal with is you getting pneumonia."  
  
"I never get sick," Helena grunted. When all she heard on the other side was laughter she decided that it wasn't a battle she was likely to win. "Fine, fine. I'm on..."  
  
"Huntress?" Barbara called out, alarm in her tone. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Reese," Helena breathed, turning hard into the dark cops' chest. Water dripped down his head and onto his leather overcoat. He was gazing at her pensively, a strange expression in his eyes.  
  
"He's there?"  
  
"Yes," Helena said curtly, still looking up at her handsome boyfriend. She didn't like the expression he was wearing. It was too cold and distant. Utterly unlike him. "I'm going off..."  
  
"Helena, wait..."  
  
"Not now..."  
  
"Wait, I want to ta..."  
  
Helena reached up and clicked off the comm. "Hey," she said to Reese, trying to be casual but failing miserably. Finally she settled for just smiling at him. That usually worked wonders.  
  
He didn't smile back.  
  
*** "What's wrong?" Dinah asked as she limped over towards her mentor. The redhead tossed her an icy glare but Dinah waved her off. "I'm down," she insisted as she dropped into a chair next to the switchboard. "But I can only spend so much time reading John Steinbeck before I want to blow out my brains."  
  
"Steinbeck's a classic," Barbara muttered.  
  
"He sucks," Dinah shot back. "Ask me if I care about a damn basket."  
  
Barbara grimaced. "You sound like Helena and that's not a good thing. I was hoping one of you would be at least remotely literary."  
  
"I like Catcher," Dinah responded.  
  
Barbara snorted derisively. "Everyone your age loves Catcher. Be original. Like Steinbeck."  
  
"Yeah, I'd need a lobotomy first."  
  
"Great, wonderful," Barbara muttered, her fingers still flying over her keyboard. "Damn."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Reese," Barbara said, more to herself than to her blonde companion.  
  
"What about Reese? Come on Barbara, share. Share the smarts."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. "I'm so not even going there."  
  
"What? The smarts or Reese?"  
  
"The uh, smarts. Reese, I'm not sure on."  
  
"Well...."  
  
"Oh," Barbara said, suddenly realizing what Dinah was asking for. She turned towards the girl and smiled. She removed her glasses and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "Something's not right."  
  
"I'm getting that," Dinah drawled. "Details? Come on, you can do it. One word in front of the next..."  
  
"Tell me," Barbara said with a grin. "Were you always like this or did Helena turn you into a sarcastic brat?"  
  
Dinah winked. "A little bit of both. I've always been a brat but Helena gave me that wonderful thing known as sarcasm."  
  
"Oh joy," Barbara quipped. Then she sighed. "Reese never showed up for work today. In fact neither did his partner. The police database shows both as being AWOL."  
  
"Now that's weird..."  
  
"Very. Helena just bumped into him so we know he's okay."  
  
"You're not sure he's okay are you?" Dinah asked quietly.  
  
Barbara pursed her lips. "No," she admitted. "I'm dead certain he's not."  
  
***** 


	6. Is he?

He paced around her, his movements cool and controlled. His eyes were dark and emotionless, lacking their usual empathy. "We should talk," he said, his tone light and casual.  
  
"Sure," she stammered, suddenly quite sure that she wanted to do anything but talk to him right now. Involuntarily she stepped back and away from him. When she caught herself she cursed under her breath. She didn't back away from any man.  
  
Not even Jesse Reese.  
  
He took a step towards her and moved in to her personal space. Usually this wasn't a problem but she was hit with the sudden need to have him very far away from her. She put a hand up to stop his approach and it smacked against his thickly muscled chest.  
  
He bent his head down and kissed her, his lips crushing against hers. She continued the passionate embrace for several seconds, ignoring the loud bells going off in her head,  
  
Finally he broke away from her. He chuckled. "Yeah, that's not worth it anymore either."  
  
She blinked. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Look," he said casually. "You're a great girl..." he stopped halfway and laughed. "Who am I kidding? You're a fucking loon bag."  
  
She cocked her head to the side. "Okay, I'm a little bit lost here." She took a step towards him and clutched his hand. "Are you okay? You're acting weird."  
  
"You're telling me what weird is?" Reese snorted. "You're the epitome of it."  
  
"Right, okay," Helena muttered. "Still being a jackass I see." She released his hand and stepped back, anger creasing her face. "You want to maybe let me in on what the hell is going on here? Because I'm lost."  
  
"That's hardly new," he stated, his tone devoid of humor. "You're lost about a lot of things. We're one of them."  
  
"Okay Reese, you're maybe ten seconds from me kicking your ass into that wall over there. What the fuck is going on?"  
  
"I'm dumping you," he said simply. He sighed. "I'm moving on."  
  
She narrowed her eyes dangerously, her face flushing hotly. She'd never been dumped before. Hell, she'd never been in the position to be dumped before. She'd had a lot of casual flings but actual relationships and well...well there was Reese.  
  
"Moving on? Uh, since when?"  
  
"Since last night," he said easily. He glanced down at his hands and examined his cuticles. Helena noticed that one of his fingers was spliced but she couldn't quite recall if it had been there previously. "After you left, I realized that it just wasn't any good for me anymore."  
  
"Right," she said uneasily. "And the first time I called you? You said you missed me."  
  
"Stop being pathetic," he drawled, sounding quite disinterested. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed up at her. "Just let it go."  
  
She swallowed hard, angry with herself for being weak but pissed as hell at him. She didn't understand and no matter how she tried to force everything to make sense, none of it did. This was wrong.  
  
Just plain bloody wrong.  
  
"Who was the bitch with you last night?" she growled, her eyes dilating in anger. She knew that she sounded jealous and probably very young but was too ticked off to really care. No one had ever claimed that she was rational.  
  
He shrugged. "Just someone different."  
  
She pulled back and struck out, delivering a vicious blow to his right cheek. He staggered a few steps and collapsed back against the wall, rain mixing with blood from his now torn lip. He looked up at her, his dark eyes cold.  
  
"You son of a bitch," she growled, her posture positively predatory. She looked like she wanted to kill him.  
  
He seemed unconcerned.  
  
He pushed himself up and brushed his clothes off. He gazed up at the dripping water, apparently more annoyed by the rain than by her. Finally he looked back at her. "We done here? Because I've got just about anywhere else to be."  
  
The anger fell away from her and she stared back at him. "You searched me out just to do this?"  
  
He shrugged. "It was about time and I knew you'd be sniffing around the crime scene."  
  
"Okay," she said, suddenly very tired. "I get it." She stepped back and away from him. "I guess then I'll see you around..."  
  
"Don't count on it," he said coolly.  
  
"Right," she muttered. She looked at him again, searching his eyes for any sign of the usual warmth. When all she got in return was a cold gaze, she leaped towards the sky. She settled on the roof high above and gazed down at him.  
  
Emotion welled up inside of her but she fought it down. She struggled against the desire to break down. It just wasn't her. She wouldn't be defeated by something so pedestrian.  
  
No matter how much it hurt.  
  
There were bigger concerns right now. Bigger problems to be addressed.  
  
Harley was still out and about.  
  
Reese would have to wait for later.  
  
* * * The tall man stood up in the middle of the road, waving his arms wildly. He was covered in what appeared to be blood and his clothes were torn to shreds. He was screaming like a man about to die. "Help me," he hollered as the bus approached.  
  
The driver stopped, albeit reluctantly. He glanced at his uniformed partner, his nerves on fire. This felt bad, everything about it felt off. They didn't have a choice however; the man on the road appeared to be badly injured. If his wounds were severe well then they couldn't just leave him to die.  
  
"Mike, go check on that guy," the driver said to his companion. He fingered his service pistol anxiously.  
  
"Sure," Sgt. Michael Benoit said as he grabbed for his rifle. He gazed back at the three shackled prisoners in the back of the transport bus. They all looked bored which was a good thing.  
  
The doors to the bus opened and Benoit stepped out. He cautiously approached the man in the road. "Sir? Are you injured?"  
  
It was a stupid question but yet somehow it seemed entirely relevant. Benoit had been a transport guard for a very long time and he'd seen some very strange things occur when someone wanted to get free badly enough.  
  
The man looked up. Their eyes locked and then he collapsed. Benoit looked back at the driver of the bus. "Call for an ambulance."  
  
"Copy that," the driver said, picking up his radio. He lifted it to his mouth and was about to speak when he heard a whistling noise. It was the last thing he thought about before a bullet pierced his skull. He fell against the steering wheel, blood seeping down over the leather of his chair.  
  
In the middle of the road Benoit was bent over the bloody man. He dropped his hand down to check the man's pulse. He was stunned to find that the fellow had a very strong pulse. "What the..."  
  
"Stand up," a voice said from behind him. He felt the rifle get ripped from his hands. Silently he cursed himself for not being smarter. This was New Gotham after all.  
  
He moved to his feet, feeling a gun pressing into his lower back. He heard a crack and then his entire spine ignited into flames. He crumbled to the ground, amazed at the sudden utter lack of feeling in his body. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against the ground. Just play dead. Play dead.  
  
Apparently it worked because the man who had been behind him stalked away, closely followed by the bloody guy from the middle of the road. He heard the dude mutter something about how sticky syrup was.  
  
Rookie mistake really.  
  
Damn.  
  
The bloody guy stepped into the bus and looked at the dead driver with bemusement. "Nice," he grinned. He looked towards the back of the bus, behind the security gate. "Neo," he called out.  
  
The smaller man who went by Neo stepped up behind him and gave him the wire cutters. Within moments the fence was down and they moved towards the three inmates. Neo pointed at the guy leaning casually against the far seat in the back.  
  
"She took long enough," he grumbled, standing up. Chains clinked loudly on his feet and hands. He was covered from head to foot in tattoos and he was sporting a face full of hair.  
  
Neo shrugged. "Just got out herself, Torch."  
  
Torch sighed. "Good enough. How'd you get the route for the transport? It was supposedly hidden." He sneered the last sentence, clearly annoyed by all the precautions the cops had taken.  
  
"Help on the inside," Neo said as he cut the shackles away. "Come on, Harley's waiting. There's lots to do."  
  
Torch stepped out of the bus and sighed. He looked towards the shattered supposedly bulletproof windshield. "New ammo?"  
  
"Yep," Neo grinned. "They fucking rock, no?"  
  
"Looks like."  
  
There was a loud squawk from a radio and then a voice rang out. "Torch honey?"  
  
Torch reached over to Neo's belt and removed the walky-talky. He pressed the button on the side. "I'm here, Boss."  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
He laughed. "Thank you babe, God, thank you."  
  
"That's my boy," she cackled. "Now, I have something I need you to do for me."  
  
"Name it."  
  
There was a slight pause and then she said in a low voice. "Listen carefully."  
  
* * *  
  
Helena slipped silently into the kitchen, still dressed in her flannel pants. She had pparently spent the night upstairs in her old bedroom though no one was quite certain when she'd come in. The rain was still coming down outside though it did like to be slowing.  
  
Alfred glanced up at the brunette and frowned. There was a serious aura around Helena and it was cold as ice. He exchanged concerned looks with Barbara who was already sitting at the kitchen table, sipping from an oversized cup of coffee. The aroma of vanilla filled the room.  
  
"How was your night?" Barbara asked, smiling up at the old butler as he put down a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her. She watched as Helena yanked open the refrigerator door and extracted a jar of peanut butter. She pulled down a loaf of bread and dropped herself into a chair opposite her mentor.  
  
"Fine." Helena replied as she opened the jar and jammed a knife into it.  
  
"Were you able to talk to Reese?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Barbara frowned. It was fairly obvious that this wasn't a conversation that Helena wanted to have. That alone wasn't unusual but something about the brunette was. She was always moody but this seemed like more than that. This looked like depression.  
  
"Helena..."  
  
"How's Dinah doing?" Helena interrupted, her eyes locked on the two pieces of white bread in front of her. She smeared the first one with peanut butter and then licked the knife clean. She caught the glare from Alfred but ignored it. She continued focusing on the sandwich, willing to do anything not to have this conversation. It hurt too damn much.  
  
"Better," Barbara replied softly. "She's taking a bath right now."  
  
"When do you think she'll be able to put pressure on her ankle?" Helena asked with a resigned sigh. It occurred to her that she'd forgotten to grab jelly.  
  
"Maybe a month."  
  
"A month?" Helena asked, surprise in her tone. She felt a wave of guilt creep over. The kid had just been trying to help her out and like most people, had been hurt for her good intentions.  
  
"She doesn't quite have your healing ability," Barbara reminded her. She narrowed her eyes, concern in her green eyes. It was obvious that Helena was upset about something more than just Dinah.  
  
Helena cocked her head. With a groan she pushed the sandwich she had been making away, her appetite suddenly gone. "Damn."  
  
"Helena, what happened with Reese?" Barbara asked, worried. She had a very strong feeling that Helena's mood was at least somehow related to her meeting with the handsome cop. Something had happened between them last night; she was sure of that. Helena was always distant, it was her nature; but this was different. This was more. There was sadness in Helena's turbulent blue eyes.  
  
"Not hungry," Helena announced suddenly, standing up and pushing away from the table. She moved a couple steps away from it.  
  
"Wait," Barbara insisted. "We need to talk."  
  
"I don't want to talk," Helena replied gruffly, tossing her napkin onto the counter.  
  
"Helena, it's important. What happened with Reese last night?"  
  
"Don't wanna talk about it," Helena muttered, glancing around for an exit. She found herself more than a little bit annoyed by her mentors' persistence. When it had been Wade that had been involved, she'd been anything but willing to talk about things. Because it hurt. It hurt like hell.  
  
"Helena..."  
  
"Barbara," Helena said firmly, trying to make it clear to the redhead that she didn't want to talk about it and had no intention of doing so.  
  
Barbara could tell that Helena was being purposely evasive. Just the same, it was crucial that she discover what had occurred between her young protégé and the typically good Detective. It could perhaps confirm or refute her suspicions.  
  
Helena put her back to Barbara, trying to hide the waves of emotions that were ripping through her. Silently she begged the redhead not to push her, not to toss her over that edge. She was too close already. Tears had almost come on more than a few occasions, only held back by the bitter need not to cry over him. Not to be weak because of him.  
  
"I'm gonna go work out," Helena replied. "Maybe later." She fled quickly towards the door, not caring that both Alfred and Barbara were still staring at her.  
  
Barbara looked Alfred in silence for a few seconds.  
  
"Perhaps a lovers' quarrel?" Alfred suggested.  
  
"I don't think so," Barbara murmured. "I'm worried about him. He hasn't checked in to the department in two days. That's not like him."  
  
"She doesn't appear to be in the mood to talk..."  
  
"I can't wait for her to be in the mood, Alfred," Barbara replied dryly. "I could be waiting the rest of my natural life. I need to know now." She dropped her napkin and then turned and wheeled towards the training room. 


	7. Is so hard to open

Helena sat on the bench in the training room, a white towel around her neck. She carefully taped up her hands, her eyes locked hard on the padding of the far wall. She wasn't really in the mood to work out but it was a good excuse to avoid having to talk to Barbara. Truth was, she wouldn't even really know where to begin. Of all the things she could have imagined, getting dumped by Reese was on the very bottom of the list. She'd never before opened up her heart to...  
  
Dammit. No. No.  
  
"Stupid," she muttered, standing up. She crossed over to the punching bag and whacked it hard with her left fist. She followed it up with a chopping right.  
  
He had met another woman.  
  
She kicked the bag.  
  
And to make matters that much worse, he'd been doing it behind her back. And while he'd been with her. But how? And why? He had been playing games with her but to what end?  
  
She railed hard against the bag, ignoring it's creaking protests.  
  
Stupid.  
  
So fucking stupid.  
  
The bag continued to sway under her anger.  
  
Incredibly fucking stupid.  
  
"Helena!"  
  
The brunette stopped and spun around, glaring at the intrusion. "What?" she snapped.  
  
"Look at what you're doing," Barbara insisted, pointing towards the bag. She wheeled further into the room.  
  
Helena grimaced when she looked at the punching bag and realized that she had broken it. Sand poured from its sides, pooling into beige heaps on the ground.  
  
"Damn," she muttered. Alfred was going to be pissed about the mess.  
  
Deciding that it would be best to clean it up before he learned of it, she reached down and began to yank the white tape off of her hands. Barbara reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting it just a bit. Not enough to hurt but certainly enough to stop the brunette in her tracks.  
  
"We need to talk," Barbara said firmly.  
  
"I don't want to talk," Helena grumbled, trying to move away. Barbara held her tight, yanking her back.  
  
"It's important, Helena. Reese..."  
  
"I don't want to talk about Reese," Helena growled back at her mentor. She tried to pull away again, her eyes dilating in anger. Barbara was invading her personal space, which wasn't all that unusual but right now, just a really bad idea. She was hurt and confused and she wanted to attack anything in her path.  
  
"Helena," the redhead started, trying to explain.  
  
"No," Helena snapped. "It's between me and Reese, that's all. No one else. I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Why are you yelling? I'm just trying..."  
  
"I don't want you to try! It's my life! You are not my mother! You are nothi..." Helena clamped her mouth shut before the rest of the word could leave her lips. Instantly remorseful she just stared back at Barbara.  
  
"Keep going. Come on," Barbara snarled at her, anger igniting her emerald green eyes. "Finish your sentence..."  
  
"Leave me alone." Helena stammered, finally breaking away from her mentor. She knew full well that she'd done it again, allowed her anger to make her go too far.  
  
"No, I will not leave you alone. Go ahead, finish your sentence," Barbara charged. She reached out and yanked Helena roughly towards her, catching the brunette off-balance.  
  
"Barbara....I...."  
  
"I'm nothing," Barbara hissed, still tightly holding Helena's arm. "That's what you meant to say."  
  
Helena shook her head. "Barbara, no..."  
  
"I'm nothing to you, right? I understand." She shoved Helena away from her and the girl stumbled and fell to her butt. "But I was something to Wade."  
  
Helena froze, her eyes wide in horror.  
  
"He could saw something that you never will: a woman, a friend... a person whom he could trust. I'm sorry that after all this years you think that I'm nothing to you... when you everything to me..." Barbara's voice broke hard. Pulling herself together she wheeled quickly towards the exit.  
  
Helena felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. She stepped in front of Barbara, effectively halting her mentors' departure. She bent over her. "I'm sorry..."  
  
"For what?" Barbara's glare was cold. "I'm nothing right? No big deal." She shoved back against Helena with such force that once again the brunette ended up on the mat. She spun quickly and fled the training room.  
  
Helena watched her go, icy in her gut. She sighed when she saw Dinah leaning against the wall, watching her with apprehension. Surely the blonde had heard the entire fight. "Go away," she muttered at Dinah, turning away from her.  
  
Dinah clapped her hands together, sarcasm dripping from the gesture. "Well, congratulations Helena, you screwed it up again. You really are the master."  
  
Helena spun around, her eyes feral and cold. She stepped towards Dinah, stopping a few feet from her. Close enough to smell her toothpaste. "Don't fuck with me right now."  
  
"Why not? You "fuck" with all of us all the time."  
  
"Shut up, just shut up." Helena growled, jabbing a finger at Dinah.  
  
"No! I'm not going to shut up! I'm tired of shutting up every time you are in bad mood! Apparently we're just supposed to tolerate your temper tantrums and ignore your insults..."  
  
Helena snapped around and strode towards the broken punching bag. She rested her hands against the broken leather. Dinah, using the wooden crutches that Barbara had given her, limped after her.  
  
"You were cruel to her, Helena," Dinah said, coming up behind her. "Like always she's worried about you and like always you don't care."  
  
"Dinah," Helena warned. "Shut up."  
  
"I don't get you, you're so damn ungrateful. She took you in when no one else cared, when she was going through her own hell. Now she's going through it again because of Wade and you're still hurting her..."  
  
Helena pushed out, anger clouding her vision. Dinah lifted up into the air and slammed back against the mat, grunting in pain. Immediately the brunette raced to her friends' side, eyes wide in horror.  
  
"Dinah..."  
  
The blond girl pushed her back. "Yeah, Helena, you're stronger than all of us. You can kick the shit out of all of us. You broke my ankle and you ..." she stopped, taking a deep breath. "Why are you so blind? Barbara's worried about you. She's worried about Reese. She thinks maybe he's in trouble. Something about Harley."  
  
Helena blinked. "What?"  
  
"God!, you're such an idiot," Dinah snapped, pushing herself to her feet. Helena offered down a hand to assist but the blonde pushed her roughly away.  
  
"I didn't know..."  
  
"Maybe that's because you never let anyone finish a sentence. You think you've got it all figured out but you keep screwing everything up." She shook her head in anger. "You know, she loves you more than you know, probably more than she knows. Definitely more than herself. And you...nevermind, you're not listening anyways." She turned her back and began to limp from the room.  
  
"Reese broke up with me," Helena said quietly.  
  
Dinah turned slowly, eyes wide.  
  
"He broke up with me last night...said there was another woman..." Helena started. She swallowed hard. "Oh God..."  
  
Shaking her head in frustration, she pushed past Dinah and fled the training room.  
  
* * *  
  
Barbara sat at the kitchen table, staring down at the cold plate of scrambled eggs. She had tried to finish the breakfast that Alfred had prepared for her earlier but had quickly found that her appetite had long since disappeared. She used her napkin to dab at the tears in her eyes.  
  
"You know she didn't mean that," Alfred insisted from behind her.  
  
"I know," Barbara replied. "She always does that though..."  
  
"Sometimes it is the person who loves us the most who can hurt us the most," Alfred informed her, taking a seat opposite her. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed.  
  
Barbara nodded slightly. "I know."  
  
"She is reckless, impulsive... she never thinks before she acts."  
  
"That's the problem, she never thinks." Barbara sighed.  
  
Alfred glanced up towards the doorway and saw Helena standing there, looking awkward. She shifted nervously, the shame clear on her face. He smiled and stood up.  
  
"Let her have a chance," Alfred whispered into Barbara's ear as he crossed behind her. He touched Helena lightly on the shoulder and then exited, leaving the two women alone.  
  
Almost a minute passed before Helena finally moved towards her mentor. It was hard. Harder than she'd ever imagined possible. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Barbara didn't seem to hear her, so lost in her own thoughts.  
  
"He kissed me...he said it wasn't worth it...he said I was a fucking loon..." she stammered out, everything rushing forward.  
  
The brunette slid into the chair opposite her and took a breath. "He broke up with me Barbara, that's what happened."  
  
Barbara lifted her head slowly, meeting Helena's distraught blue eyes. She could see the internal fight Helena was having with herself as she tried to put her emotions into words.  
  
"He said that there was someone else. Another woman. Someone different," Helena warbled, feeling her throat constrict tightly. She dropped her eyes and stared down at her palms, noticing a small scar at the base of one. She pressed at it with her thumb.  
  
The redhead turned in her chair and looked at Helena with naked shock in her eyes. "Oh Helena..."  
  
"It's hard," she stammered. "He wants someone else..."  
  
She pressed her nail into her hand, angry at her inability to say what she wanted to say, to verbalize her pain. "I...I...I didn't think...I got dumped..."  
  
Barbara watched her in silence, trying to give her young friend the space she needed to explain.  
  
"I gave him everything I had. I thought...I thought we were okay...I thought it was good...I thought maybe for once I had something that I hadn't screwed up..." She looked up at Barbara and was relieved to see the familiar empathy in her mentors' eyes. Maybe there was a chance of forgiveness. Maybe...  
  
"I've never loved anyone like I do him. I never thought I would. It's not how I do things. I didn't want to fall for him," Helena gasped out, nearly choking on her own words. She felt Barbara touch her hand and then engulf it within her own. "It hurts...this hurts...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She locked eyes with Barbara. "You're all I have...I didn't mean..."  
  
Barbara pressed a finger against her lips and then pulled her close, wrapping her into a tight motherly embrace. Helena cried silently for a few moments, allowing herself to be a young girl for just a second or two.  
  
"I wasn't trying to pry," Barbara insisted. "I'm just concerned about Reese. Something's not right. Helena, I think it's possible that maybe Harley has him under her control."  
  
Helena moved back. "What?"  
  
"I was suspicious before but now I'm certain. When I talked to him two days ago, both he and McNally were heading out to search for Harley. And now this...it's too strange..."  
  
"No..."  
  
"Think about it Helena. He is not acting like himself..."  
  
"I thought the reports we got from Arkham said that her power had been neutralized," Helena stated, blatantly confused.  
  
Barbara shrugged, "It's not like they haven't been wrong before. And she's fairly adept at knowing exactly how to get people to do what she wants them to do and thinks however she wants them to think. I'd say there's a good chance she still has the hypnotic ability."  
  
Helena felt something rising inside of her. If she'd been a schoolgirl and someone who used quaint phrases, she would have called it hope. "You think? I mean, really? I should find him..."  
  
"No... no... wait, first we need to investigate a bit more." Barbara said, holding up a hand. "I'm not sending you in without knowing more. It's too dangerous."  
  
"That bitch could kill him," Helena growled, all the girly rushing away from her and instead being replaced by her killer instinct.  
  
"That bitch could kill you," Barbara corrected. She shook her head. "No, she's just using him. Just like she did Wade. And if she wanted him dead, just like Wade, he would be right now. He still has use for her."  
  
Helena dropped her head, the guilt unbearable once more. "Right," she muttered.  
  
Barbara slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her head. "Hey, don't worry, we will figure this out. We will." She paused. "Harley's not beating us this time."  
  
Helena smiled slightly. "Okay then, tell me what to do."  
  
* * * 


	8. Hunting a hunter

Night.  
  
Cold.  
  
She circled behind him, her eyes narrowed and dangerous. He could feel her in his blood and every bell in his head started ringing. He turned slightly towards her and swallowed hard, his slate blue eyes widening pathetically. He shook his head like he was trying to find a way to explain his actions.  
  
Finally, realizing that he couldn't, he tried to jump past her. She stuck out her foot and he crumbled over it. He tried to stand but she buried her knee into his gut. He grunted loudly, cursing at her as he fell.  
  
"This is no challenge," she said dryly as she tossed him onto his back and smacked him hard across the face. He groaned and spun away from her; dropping the brown paper bag he had been carrying. A few twenty-dollar bills spilled out of the sack and floated into the air, drifting down the street.  
  
"It's just something to help you blow off steam," Barbara insisted. "I need you focused. If something is wrong with Reese, I need you thinking clearly."  
  
"I'm always thinking clearly," Helena cracked with a devious grin as she kicked the thug back to the ground. She placed her foot onto his chest, watching with amusement as he shoved up against her. He tried to grab at her foot to throw her off balance but she kicked his hand away and then smacked him in the jaw with the toe of her boot. He grunted and fell back, snarling at her. Or at least attempting to.  
  
Barbara snorted loudly. "I'm gonna assume you're joking."  
  
"Good assumption," Helena replied dryly. "You know, if this was supposed to help me blow off steam, couldn't I have at least gotten someone who could go a few rounds with me? This loser looks like...I don't know...I don't have the words..."  
  
"That's a first," Barbara replied, typing away in the background. "Okay, then if you're all wrapped up there, why don't you come back here. We need to regroup and see if we can figure out what the next step is."  
  
"Copy that," Helena replied. She reached down and picked up the thug. She held him up in the air, shaking him. "Listen to me, I don't have time to gift-wrap you up for the cops so I'm gonna let you go. Cross me again and the only green you'll ever see again..."  
  
"Okay, okay," he said quickly. "I get it."  
  
"Good," she smiled. She released him and he fell. He instantly put his hand to his bald head, rubbing at the non-existent hair. He gazed up at her in fear and then jumped to his feet and stumbled away. "Where have all the fun baddies gone?" she quipped.  
  
"I might have an answer for that," a voice said from behind her. She snapped around quickly, annoyed. She'd been feeling a strange buzzing for several minutes but it hadn't seem either imminent nor threatening so she'd let it pass. She wondered if that had been a bad move,  
  
"Huntress?" Barbara called out. "Who is that?"  
  
She pressed her hand against her ear. "Hang on Oracle, might have a situation." She narrowed her eyes as the man stepped into the light. "Wait a minute, I know you..."  
  
"Boyd," he said to her, his voice soft. He was maybe six feet tall with wavy brown hair. Not very good looking but not a dog either. His personality was his major malfunction in that apparently he lacked one of any interest. "I'm a bartender from Crimson."  
  
"Right," she said with a nod. "What can I do for you."  
  
"Huntress, be careful," Barbara warned.  
  
"I can help you I think," he said, keeping his distance. "I know who you are and I know what you do."  
  
Helena lifted an eyebrow. "Oh really?"  
  
"Huntress is what they call you I think. I know you as Helena Kyle."  
  
"And I know you as the guy I said no to a few weeks ago," Helena said dryly. "What's your point?"  
  
He held up his hand as if to signify that he was no threat to her. "Whoa, I'm not here to cause you pain. Look, as a bartender, you should know this, Kyle, we hear things...things others don't. You don't wear a mask....it's not all that hard for people to figure out you have a secret identity."  
  
"That's what I've been saying," Barbara quipped.  
  
"Hello? Working here. Do you mind?" Helena replied, rolling her eyes. She was at the moment more annoyed that her mentor had been supplied new ammo for their on-going costume debate than she was concerned about the man speaking to her. He was of average size but she figured if need be she could take him easily.  
  
"Sorry," Oracle laughed.  
  
"Uh huh," Helena shot back. To Boyd she said, "Go on, I'm listening."  
  
"Look, there's some crazy broad out there right now. Got a major woody for you," Boyd said, quirking his lip.  
  
"That's an understatement," Helena drawled, sarcasm dripping from her words. She changed her posture so as to let Boyd know that she was growing bored with him.  
  
"Anyways, people tend to die when some of these crazies get rolling. I still remember what the Joker did to the city," Boyd said slowly. "I don't want to see that happen again."  
  
"Okay," Helena replied. "So, why are you here? I'm still not getting it."  
  
"You can stop her and I know how," Boyd informed her.  
  
"You do?" Helena asked, incredulous. "Really? Oh by all means, go on."  
  
"You don't believe me," he said, dropping his voice.  
  
"No," she admitted. "But try me anyways."  
  
"Nice Huntress, good way to piss someone off in a hurry," Barbara sighed. "I don't have a police record for uh, Boyd Kramer. He's clean."  
  
"Figured as much," Helena replied. Then she looked at Boyd and made an impatient gesture, urging him to continue.  
  
"Tomorrow night, there's gonna be a big meeting down at the warehouse of 7th and MacAfee. All the major remaining mob bosses and anyone who's ever been something in the crime world. Harley, I think that's her name, she's bringing them all together."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To kill them," he said simply.  
  
"How do you know this?"  
  
"That guy that escaped from the bus last night. Torch I think is what they call him," Boyd replied. "He paid me to deliver a few messages. I got some guys I work with who deal a little crack and work with some of the bosses. I uh, overheard him talking on his cell."  
  
"Really? Where?"  
  
Boyd made a face of disgust. "In the bathroom."  
  
"Men," Helena sighed. "Okay, suppose I'm biting. What time is the meeting?"  
  
Boyd reached into his jacket and yanked out a plain white envelope. "It's all in here. I uh, grabbed the one that was supposed to be sent to some dude named Raver."  
  
"Patrick Raver," Barbara said over the comm. "Runs a gambling ring on the side of the town. Pretty small-time."  
  
"Thanks for the update," Helena grinned. She took the envelope from Boyd and opened it. Then she laughed. "Oracle, you've got to see this, this invitation is written in calligraphy."  
  
"How elegant," Barbara snorted.  
  
"How Harley," Helena put in. Then she looked at Boyd. "Okay, I'll look into this."  
  
"Good," he said, stepping back and away from her. He pushed his hands into his pockets and turned his back. Then he stopped and looked back at her. "Hey, no hard feelings and all."  
  
"About what?" she asked, still peering down at the strange invitation.  
  
"About me turning you down," he said simply.  
  
She snorted loudly and derisively. "As if." Shaking her head she looked up towards the sky. She chuckled and then leaped, soaring several feet before she slapped down onto a rooftop. "Oracle, I'm coming in."  
  
"Copy that, see you back at base," the redhead replied over the comm.  
  
Helena gazed back down at the alley for a few seconds, watching as Boyd disappeared. Her instincts were on edge and she still didn't quite believe his words but they intrigued her just the same. And no matter what, they got her closer to dealing with Harley.  
  
Dealing with Wade.  
  
Dealing with Reese.  
  
She jammed the invitation into the back of her leather pants and then took off running towards the adjoining rooftop, enjoying the feel of the air whipping against her cheeks.  
  
It felt sane.  
  
*****  
  
Boyd slipped into the alley and turned towards a brown door that led into the back of one of the shops. He stepped into the room and looked around. "Torch?"  
  
"Oh he had to go," Harley said, coming out from the front. "He had errands to run." She crossed over to him. "You did well." She ran a hand over his cheek, delighting in the tremors she felt beneath her fingers.  
  
"Th...thank you," he stammered. "Um, can I get paid?"  
  
"So impatient," she sighed. She stepped away from him. "That's what the problem with today's youth is, they don't want to wait for anything. You know they have a term for that..." "I'm sure they do," he said softly, completely creeped out. He had taken the job as a way to earn a few quick dollars. He'd been working for the bosses for a long while and it was just the best way to survive in New Gotham. Watching the blonde psycho wander aimlessly around the room, he was beginning to wonder if maybe he was wrong.  
  
"But you did do a good job and you should be rewarded," Harley admitted. She moved towards him and smiled. She leaned closer to him and he found himself entranced by her eyes. A moment later they went black and he tried to retreat. Tried and failed. "Will you do anything I ask?"  
  
"Of course," he replied, almost dreamily.  
  
"Oh Torchy," she called out.  
  
"Boss?" the big man said, coming out from the back. He sneered when he looked at the hypnotized bartender.  
  
"Give him your gun," she ordered.  
  
Torch frowned but did as he was asked. He reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out a .45. He offered it to Boyd.  
  
"Take the gun," she said to the bartender. "Put it in your mouth."  
  
The kid obeyed, taking the pistol and sliding it into his open mouth. He continued staring at her, his eyes blank and aimless.  
  
"Now shoot," she said softly.  
  
His eyes seemed to become aware for the briefest of moments but that passed in a flash when he yanked the trigger. A boom erupted in the room and then a wet sound followed by what smelled like burning flesh.  
  
Harley clapped her hands. "Oh beautiful."  
  
"Messy," Torch sighed. "Very messy." He reached down and extracted his gun, glaring at the carnage. "And my gun is ruined."  
  
She patted his arm comfortingly. "Oh I'll get you another." Then she smiled. "Time to go. The trap has been set."  
  
"You think she'll fall for it?"  
  
"Of course she will," Harley assured him. "She's a hero. Heroes always fall for it. It's their way." She laughed again. "It's going to be so much fun."  
  
Then she grabbed his arm and led him towards the street, laughing all the way to the truck. He'd always known that she was a little insane but now he was certain that she was quite mad.  
  
*****  
  
The blonde glanced up from her homework when she heard the hard knock on her door. She wrinkled her brow slightly, curiosity overtaking her slim features. The sound was too hard to be Barbara or Alfred, which meant that it could only be Helena. She pushed herself up and said softly, "Come in." She adjusted her wounded foot so that it was prominently displayed on the mound of pillows at the end of the mattress.  
  
"Hey kid," Helena said gruffly as she moved slightly inside the door. She fidgeted nervously, shifting from foot to foot. Her leather pants were dripping a little bit of water and her hair was messy. The storm outside was getting worse and Helena looked like a cat that had been stuck in it.  
  
"Hey," Dinah said lightly, trying to act like she didn't care what her brunette friend had to say. She rather enjoyed how uncomfortable the typically cool and confident Huntress looked. It was a welcome departure from the norm.  
  
"How's your foot?" Helena asked, taking a few steps into the room. She motioned towards the bed. Dinah nodded and Helena seated herself at the end of it, folding her hands into her lap.  
  
"Hurts," Dinah replied noncommittally. "So, how did your patrol go?"  
  
"Hm? Oh, not sure yet."  
  
"What's that mean?"  
  
Helena frowned. "I don't know yet. We may have gotten a tip on Harley's intentions but I'm just not sure we should trust it just yet. Barbara's checking in to it."  
  
"That's good," Dinah replied coolly. She glanced down at her hands. "So uh, what can I do for you?"  
  
"Look," Helena said, blowing out air between her teeth. "I just...you know..."  
  
Dinah grinned at her. "I don't know."  
  
Helena rolled her eyes. "Come on, you know."  
  
"I said I didn't."  
  
"Do you have to make this difficult?"  
  
"Uh huh. Come on, Helena, say the words. You can do it."  
  
"Bite me."  
  
Dinah grinned at her, her previous irritation completely gone now. "Thanks, I'll pass. Come on..."  
  
"Oh fine, I'm sorry. Okay, I'm sorry."  
  
Dinah laughed. "You're forgiven. Now could you kindly stop being a pain in the ass at every interval?"  
  
"Keep it up," Helena rumbled, her eyes dancing. She shook her head. "No seriously, I am sorry. I guess I've just been all over the place lately."  
  
"You kind of have your reasons," Dinah admitted. She reached across and squeezed Helena's hand. "But the Reese thing, I agree with Barbara, it's not something he would do. He loves you. He wouldn't do this to you."  
  
"Okay," Helena said, offering her a small smile. She could feel the old waves of discomfort crashing through her but she choked them back. After all she'd put Barbara and Dinah through, they both deserved more than just a wall of ice. "Look I just wanted to..."  
  
"Thank you," Dinah said softly. "It means a lot."  
  
"Good," Helena replied, swallowing thickly. She made her way to the door. "G'night."  
  
"Night Helena," Dinah yawned. She waited until the door had closed and then fell back against the pillows.  
  
The clock read three in the morning.  
  
*****  
  
"I'm not sure about this," Barbara admitted, fidgeting a bit in her chair. She was seated in front the Delphi system wearing a pair of jeans and a wifebeater. Her hair was back in a loose ponytail and she looked like she'd been working out. Which of course she had been for the last several hours.  
  
Helena frowned. "Can't say as I like that. You're having second thoughts?"  
  
"It could be a trap," Barbara said, glancing down at the paper invitation. There was black writing on it, all very elegant. She ran her fingers over the deep indents that the pen had made. Delphi had matched the writing to Harley's.  
  
"Could be?" Helena snorted. "Probably is. Doesn't mean we still shouldn't find out what she's up to. And what she's done to Reese."  
  
"Helena, I don't like this..."  
  
"Look, it's your call, Barbara," Helena replied, stepping towards her mentor. She held up her palms. "You don't want me to go and I don't."  
  
"That's new," Barbara said, quirking her lip.  
  
"Hey, I'm trying the whole team player thing."  
  
"That's a first."  
  
Helena shrugged. "I'm a cat that can change her stripes."  
  
Barbara sighed. "Helena, come here." She motioned towards the table in front of her.  
  
The brunette lifted an eyebrow, surprise in her expression. She cautiously approached the table. "What I'd do? I thought that was what you wanted to hear."  
  
"It would be if I thought that was you. I don't want you to change your stripes. You wouldn't be the Helena I love if you did. I just want you to stop and think on occasion. Okay?"  
  
"Okay," Helena said slowly.  
  
"Good, now wear your coat. It's raining outside and I still don't want you catching pneumonia."  
  
"Yes mom," Helena grinned. Then she cocked her head. "So I'm going then?"  
  
"You're right, we need to know what Harley is up to. But listen to me, you're not to engage unless absolutely necessary."  
  
"Right," Helena agreed, yanking on her overcoat. She was wearing her typical tight leather pants. They were as always the easiest to move in.  
  
"Helena, I'm serious. No engagement. I know you want to know what's going on with Reese but I can promise you, Harley knows that too. She will use it against you if you let her."  
  
"Okay," Helena said, swallowing. Then she wrinkled her brow. "You really think she has Reese under her control?"  
  
"Three days and he hasn't shown up for work. Neither has his partner. I checked the NGPD database this morning and there's no update on their status. I believe a full on search has been initiated. So no, I have no doubt of it," Barbara assured her. She paused. "His life is in danger every moment he's with her, we both know this, but I need you to clear your mind and think."  
  
"Don't worry," Helena said softly. "But I am bringing him home."  
  
"Think positive," Barbara grinned at her. She glanced up at the clock and sighed. "Dinah should have been home from school four hours ago."  
  
"What's wrong Barbara? Worried?" Helena asked with a laugh as she finished lacing up her boots.  
  
"No, just having flashbacks to your high school days when I had no idea where the hell you were most of the night," Barbara replied with a loud snort.  
  
Helena winked. "Dinah's a good girl."  
  
"Uh huh and that's the only reason I haven't gone looking for her like I did you."  
  
"Oh I was always good," Helena said, eyes twinkling. Then she shook her head. "Okay, meeting is in thirty minutes, I'm off."  
  
"Be careful," Barbara insisted. "And keep your comm on."  
  
Helena waved back at her and then strode into the elevator, leaving the redhead all alone in the massive Clocktower.  
  
She took a deep breath and then expelled air out. She couldn't help but feel an insane sense of panic.  
  
Something was going to go wrong.  
  
Very very wrong.  
  
"Huntress," Barbara said, pushing herself up to the mic. "Abort mission."  
  
"What's wrong Oracle?" the brunette called back, sounding like she was running. She was probably leaping buildings.  
  
Barbara paused briefly and frowned. Finally she said softly. "Nothing. Nothing. Just...just..."  
  
"Be careful. Got it. Don't worry. Huntress out."  
  
Barbara pursed her lips and stared at the LCD in front of her. Bright colors splashed towards her, showing her a map of the city.  
  
It was all very calming.  
  
Usually.  
  
Tonight it was her own personal secluded hell.  
  
Harley was free and Helena was headed right at her.  
  
Right into the belly of the beast. 


	9. Dead Trap

Authors: Jag, Shawn(GF)  
  
Rating: This is a hard R. There is language, there is an extreme amount of violence. There is the hint of some sexual violence and there is a lot of psychological drama. This is not for the weak of constitution nor necessarily those who have just eaten lunch. Enjoy.  
  
************************************  
  
The hero known as Huntress crouched low on the rooftop, gazing down towards the warehouse. She had been told by the bartender from Crimson that there was supposed to be some type of huge meeting between all of the major crime families in New Gotham. Led up of course by Harley herself. Word was that the cracked former therapist was planning on murdering the lot of them. Of course considering that everything appeared to be quiet and silent, Helena was beginning to have doubts about the quality of the information.  
  
"I think it was a false alarm Oracle," Helena grunted as she narrowed her eyes. Cool air whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks.  
  
"That's possible," Barbara Gordon said softly, the sound of keys being clicked outlining her words. "Maybe they changed locations at the last moment."  
  
"Well I'm here anyways," Helena said with a sigh. "Might as well take a look inside."  
  
"Be careful," Oracle called out, a trace of alarm in her voice. Typically she wouldn't have given much thought to her young charge being curious but something was off here. Harley was up to something.  
  
Helena rolled her eyes. Shaking her head she dropped down from the rooftop and into one of the broken windows of the warehouse. She frowned as she looked around the empty building. The floor creaked heavily under her feet as she moved towards the ground level. She stopped when her foot hit up against something. Bending down she ran her hand over what appeared to be a small hill of dust. The color of it was off though. More rusty than sandy. She pinched it between her fingers and brought it up to her nose. It was odorless but the consistency of it was peculiar.  
  
"Nothing," Helena said with a sigh. "There's nothing here." She stood up and took a few steps towards the window. She heard the crack of the boards beneath her giving out before she actually felt herself falling. She let out a strangled gasp as she slammed her back up against the ground floor, dust rising up in large clouds around her. "Oh oww...."  
  
"Huntress?" Barbara called out. "Huntress? What happened? Are you okay? Huntress..."  
  
The brunette coughed loudly and waved her hand in front of her face, trying to see through the dust that was flying everywhere. There was a strange familiar stench in the room but she couldn't quite put her finger on it just yet. She glanced down at her jacket and scowled; it would definitely need to be laundered. Damn.  
  
"Huntress? Respond..."  
  
"I'm here, Oracle," Helena said between coughs. She hacked dryly into her palm, trying to clear the soot from her throat. "This place is too damn old. There's no way they could have held a meeting here; Harley wouldn't have even had to kill them all. They would have...."  
  
"Huntress?" Barbara asked, alarmed by the sudden break in the conversation. Helena could get distracted easily but right now was a really bad time for it.  
  
Helena took a few steps forward and bent over. She couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. "Oracle..."  
  
"I'm still here, Huntress," Barbara said dryly.  
  
"I was wrong," the brunette said simply. "Apparently they did have the meeting here."  
  
"Explain."  
  
"There are bodies here. Maybe fifteen total give or take. Very dead. And oh God does it smell bad," Helena said as she put a hand over her mouth and nose, thereby effectively muffling her voice. She stepped across two of the bodies, frowning as she gazed into their cold, dead and open eyes. She felt shivers dancing up her spine, assaulting her nerves. Her stance hardened into a battle position.  
  
"I guess we were too late," Barbara commented, once again typing.  
  
"Harley really is gung-ho this time isn't she?" Helena muttered as she bent down to inspect one of the corpses. "Looks like a single shot to the head. Execution style."  
  
"Wonderful," Barbara said dryly. "Do me a favor and get me some pictures. Let's see if we can identify any of the corpses."  
  
Helena groaned. "I hate this part of the job. Why can't we just save everyone and then spend the rest of the night partying?" She shook her head in disgust. "Why does it have to be all about taking pictures of dead guys?"  
  
"You apparently never read the fine print on the contract did you?" Barbara asked with a laugh.  
  
"You mean the great hero contract?"  
  
"Yeah, that one."  
  
"No, my dog ate it."  
  
"You don't have a dog and whatever else you're going to say, stop right there. Just get me the pictures."  
  
"Eh, you're no fun," Helena snorted. Reaching into one of the interior pockets of her overcoat she extracted a small thin device. A digital camera of sorts. Leaning down over the first corpse, she pressed a button. A bright flash erupted in the room.  
  
The pictures were on their way.  
  
* * *  
  
Barbara shook her head and frowned as she gazed at her computer screen. The first pictures from the camera were starting to download from the satellite feed but they hardly looked right. She reached up and took her glasses off, anxiously pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "Huntress, send me the pictures again."  
  
"Okay," Helena said shortly. A few seconds later a new download started but the redhead quickly discovered that the new images were identical to the old ones.  
  
"Huntress, where are the corpses?"  
  
"In the pictures Oracle," Helena said with a laugh. "Put your glasses on. I know we've had this discussion."  
  
"I'm sure we've also had the discussion about not insulting your elders," Barbara muttered. Then she frowned. "There isn't anything in these pictures besides walls and floors. Dirty nasty ones I grant you but bodies, no."  
  
There was a long pause and then Helena finally replied, "You're joking, right?"  
  
* * *  
  
Helena turned the camera over in her hand and looked down at it. She blinked when the bright light from the flash splashed against her eyes. Then she shook her head. "I just sent you four different faces, Oracle. "  
  
"I have nothing," Barbara replied. "Maybe the device is malfunctioning..."  
  
"Yeah like that'd be a first," Helena grunted. "Okay then..." she stopped abruptly when she felt something touch her foot. "What the..."  
  
"Huntress?"  
  
Helena stared down in horror as one of the corpses reached out for her ankle, sliding a bony hand around her foot. She kicked out desperately and the hand cracked and shattered. Two of the bodies next to the grabby one began to wobble and then stumble as they moved to their feet.  
  
"Uh, Oracle, the dead guys are kind of...alive..."  
  
"You mean they're not dead?"  
  
"Oh they're dead..."  
  
"Huntress...."  
  
"They're zombies," Helena said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm in a God damn horror movie."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Zombies," Helena reiterated. "And they smell awful. I mean really bad. Oracle, this isn't right...they smell like they've been dead for weeks...not hours."  
  
"Huntress, I don't see anything..."  
  
Helena just shook her head in exasperation. She stared back at the zombies that were starting to move towards her. Their faces were blue and emotionless; their eyes empty eyeless sockets. Their movements were gawky and uncoordinated, almost mechanical. "I think it's time I get the hell out of here," Helena muttered, taking a step backwards. She eyed a rotted door on the opposite side of the room but was dismayed to see two of the zombies in the path to it.  
  
One of the zombies reached her while she was looking around. It swung at her but she easily evaded the blow, ducking beneath it. She hissed in irritation and then planted her foot into its sternum. It crumbled and sprayed outwards, brittle bone cracking. She punched out at another one that approached and made a face when she saw flesh flay away from the corpse when she connected. "Oh gross..."  
  
"Huntress, get out of there," Barbara demanded, sounding impatient.  
  
"Trying," she muttered, side-stepping two more zombies. She did a flip into the air and dropped down in front of the door. She turned back to regard the zombies one final time. "Don't hang around too long boys," she quipped. She reached out for the door and then stopped, eyes wide in horror. "Oh God..."  
  
"Huntress?"  
  
"Wade," Helena muttered, starting at the zombie sauntering towards her. The man was dressed in the type of clothes you'd be buried in and skin hung from his cheeks. One of his eye sockets was completely empty and the other one looked like rats had been gnawing on it. He staggered, one arm drooping brokenly by his side.  
  
"Wade?" Barbara cried out. "What the...Huntress, what is going on? Respond..."  
  
Helena opened her mouth to speak but nothing but a choked gasp came out. A moment later she felt Zombie Wade's fist connect with her jaw. She heard a sickening crack but was relatively sure that it wasn't her bone that had broken. Had to be his. She hissed in pain and bent forward, unintentionally moving right into a hard knee to the gut. She dropped to the floor, eyes squinted in pain.  
  
"Huntress, are you okay?" She felt Zombie Wade grab her by the lapel and lift her high up into the air. He held her there for a split second and then hurled her into the middle of the room. She hit the ground with a loud thud and then lay there motionless, stunned and in pain. She felt a hand slide over her ankle and then another one touch her arm. She tried to yank away but a third hand slid over her stomach and then it felt like someone was trying to crawl on her. The smell of decay assaulted her but it was the physical contact that made her want to vomit.  
  
"Huntress!"  
  
She felt a hand slide over her mouth, sealing off her oxygen. She could taste the decayed and rotting flesh against her tongue as the meat fell away from the bones.  
  
Her heart started to pound as terror overwhelmed her. She wasn't the type to frighten easily but panic was starting to set in. She tried to move but her body refused the order, paralyzed by fear. Her blood went cold as she looked into Wade's deformed face.  
  
She tried to struggle to get free but the hands held her tight, locking her to the ground. Wade moved above her, grinning like a damn fool. Her mind blurred as the smell of rotting flesh overwhelmed her. She shuddered violently as Wade bent over her.  
  
He touched her face and she gasped in horror. He smiled and moved towards her mouth. He apparently wanted to kiss her. She struggled but he grabbed her head. He pressed his mouth to hers. It wasn't until he finally backed away that she again found her voice.  
  
And then she screamed with every thing that was inside of her. The sound bounced against the walls of the dilapidated warehouse and then assaulted her eardrums on its way back.  
  
Wade moved back towards her. He slid across her, his body flat atop hers. He put a hand over her mouth and she felt a searing burning in her lungs. She couldn't quite identify the source of the pain but it hardly mattered as the darkness started to crash inwards from the corners of her eyes. She felt the room start to spin and shake. She felt like she was tumbling, sinking down towards a bottomless black pit.  
  
And then everything just went dark.  
  
* * *  
  
The redhead who had once been called Batgirl shook violently when she heard her young protégé scream in terror. It wasn't like Helena; it wasn't her way. Frantically she began to punch keys, glaring up at the LCD in front of her. That was when she heard Helena grunt. It sounded like she was being muffled somehow. She slammed her first hard against the table, her anger seeping out.  
  
"Barbara?" Dinah asked as she stepped out of the elevator, limping under the weight of her broken ankle. "What the hell was that sound?"  
  
Barbara spun around to regard Dinah with a hint of irritation. Once she saw that the blonde was all right, relief washed over it. Then the annoyance returned. "Where have you been?"  
  
"Out with Gabby," Dinah replied with a shake of her head. "Was that Helena?"  
  
"Yes," Barbara said quickly, returning to her keyboard. "Something's wrong. She said she saw corpses at the warehouse but there wasn't anything there. Nothing."  
  
"I don't understand..."  
  
"Neither do I," Barbara muttered. Then she turned to face Dinah. "But whatever she saw there, whatever she thought she saw there, she also saw Wade. At least she thought she did."  
  
"Oh God," Dinah gasped. Swallowing hard she asked, "What about her comm?"  
  
"It's still on but she's not answering me..."  
  
"Barbara Gordon," a voice cackled over the speaker.  
  
The two women exchanged a look of alarm and then both looked at the tiny speaker sitting on the desk. Barbara slid towards it, anger and fear racing through her. She knew that voice well; it haunted her nightmares. Her jaw set hard, she slid her hand around the microphone next to the computer.  
  
"Harley," she gritted out.  
  
There was a laugh and then Harley sang out, "Looks like destiny has brought us together again."  
  
Harley, what did you do to her?" Barbara demanded, her nails cutting in to her own flesh. A thin tendril of blood seeped down across her palm.  
  
"Who? The little Huntress? Oh I didn't do anything at all. She just had a little waking nightmare." Harley laughed loudly. "But don't worry, she's still alive. At least for now. How long she stays such depends on my mood I guess."  
  
Barbara bit her lip, the frustration nearly overwhelming. She knew better than to underestimate or doubt Harley; the woman wasn't just a run-of-the- mill common criminal. No, in fact she was a brilliant and insane woman who could and would kill at the drop of a hat.  
  
Any hat.  
  
She had murdered Wade just for her own amusement. That was her way. The woman didn't have human emotions; her insane mind could only think in terms of power and revenge. She really was the perfect paramour for the Joker.  
  
Barbara swallowed hard. She needed to think, to make it all make sense. She had to react cautiously; Helena's life depended on it. And being that the brunette was pretty much her world, well then it wasn't such a stretch to say that her own life depended on it just as much.  
  
Stop and think then, she reminded herself.  
  
"What happened Barbara Gordon?" Harley asked. "Cat get your tongue? Oh wait; I have the kitty. Hmmm." She laughed again. A few seconds passed and then Barbara heard the woman inhale deeply. "She smells good," Harley announced in a soft voice. "Did you know that? Have you ever smelled her? Oh I guess you have, probably thousands of times."  
  
"Harley, please don't hurt her," Barbara said between tightly clenched teeth. "What do you want?"  
  
"Uh uh," Harley taunted. "We just started the game. Why the hurry?"  
  
"Tell me what you want..."  
  
"Hmm," Harley chuckled. "How about I'll think about it and get back to you, okay?" She clapped her hands excitedly. "In the meanwhile I'm going to take little Helena here to her new home."  
  
"Harley..."  
  
"Oh and Barbara Gordon? Don't try to follow us...you really wouldn't like what I would do to her if you pissed me off. And I don't want to kill her. Not yet at least. So do us both a favor and don't piss me off."  
  
There was a loud clank and then the comm line went dead. The line buzzed for a few seconds before Barbara punched a key and it went silent. Helena's signal on the screen blipped twice and then dimmed out. "Fuck," she muttered, under her breath.  
  
"We have to help her," Dinah insisted loudly, reaching out for her crutch.  
  
Barbara shook her head. "They'd be long gone by the time we get there and I have no idea where they're going. Besides, with your foot...we have to be careful, I don't think Harley is lying, she has Helena at her mercy..."  
  
"Well we have to do something. Reese?"  
  
"No," Barbara said shaking her head. "He's compromised. I'm sure of it now."  
  
"But it's Helena...we have to help her..."  
  
"Dinah, please," Barbara snapped back. She took a breath and then reached out for Dinah's arm. "First off, sit down. Get off your foot. You're still in trouble for not calling in, you scared the hell out of me."  
  
"Sorry," Dinah said sheepishly. "We...ran....we ran into some boys."  
  
Barbara rolled her eyes. She could feel the irritation in her bones but fought down against it. It wasn't fair to Dinah. She was just a kid doing teenage things. That was a good thing. Bad timing perhaps but just the same, not something to be yelled at for. "Look, I know exactly whose life is in danger right now. More than you realize. I also know what Harley is capable of. We have to tread very lightly here or it won't matter at all."  
  
Dinah glanced at the LCD in front of Barbara. Right in the middle of the city grid was a dimmed out symbol that usually signified Helena. She dropped her head a bit and sighed. "Okay," she said softly. She dropped down into a chair opposite Barbara.  
  
The redhead nodded slowly, thankful for Dinah's cooperation. She closed her eyes and tried to focus. She knew that she needed to distance herself from her racing emotions; she had to get herself to a very cold place in order to find the necessary clarity. Control was mandatory.  
  
Harley was a fairly simple woman but in that simplicity with a type of evil that was almost beyond comprehension. She delighted in causing pain to her enemies and to anyone who got in her way.  
  
Which meant that their only chance at bringing Helena home alive was separation from emotion.  
  
And cold.  
  
Ice cold logic. * * * 


	10. Prey of the demon

Detective Jesse Reese forced open the door to the warehouse. It creaked under his touch and swung inwards. He lifted her service pistol up and began to slowly make his way into the dark room, squinting for light.  
  
The first thing he saw as his eyes readjusted was Harley sitting on the floor, holding Helena's unconscious body in her arms. The brunette's head was rested in her former therapists' lap. Harley was running her long fingers through the girls' tangled mane. Right next to her was a small clear bottle and a red rag. He tried to see what the liquid was but the contained was unlabeled.  
  
When she saw Reese above her she smiled widely. He glanced to her side and saw Helena's necklace and earrings lying smashed on the dusty floor. One of them was still sparking pathetically. The other one was little more than scrap metal now.  
  
"What happened here?" he asked as he stepped closer, his hand still gripping his gun nervously. He felt edgy and ill at ease. Tension danced up his spine.  
  
"She is beautiful isn't she, Detective?" Harley cooed, her eyes still on her unaware prey.  
  
"What happened to her?" Reese demanded, still pointing his gun.  
  
"Easy darling. Everything is okay."  
  
"I heard a scream," Reese insisted. He used one of his hands to wipe sweat away from his brow. He loosened his collar.  
  
"Oh that was our beloved Huntress here," Harley announced. "Apparently it was too much for her." She frowned at him. "Put your gun away, Detective, I don't like it."  
  
Reese obeyed and walked toward her, dropping down into a crouch next to the blonde. "What was too much for her?"  
  
"Oh, her nightmares of course," Harley giggled. She wrinkled her nose deviously. "I had Torch and Neo cover this place with some kind of hallucinatory powder. She supplied everything else. What a lovely beautiful imagination she has." She reached down and pressed a kiss to Helena's lips. "The powder brought everything out but the fears were hers alone. And apparently she couldn't face them. She had so much on her mind that she was ripe for me to get in there and play around. She actually thought that I was Wade." Then she laughed and held up the cloth. "That and I knocked her out." She shrugged. "Terror is a wonderful weapon, don't you agree, Detective?"  
  
"Chloroform?" Reese asked. She nodded. He frowned, confused and uncertain. "I thought..."  
  
"Oh Detective, I'm sure I've warned you not to do that..."  
  
"Right," he admitted, shaking his head in confusion. His mind felt foggy and awkward. He blinked a few times, trying to clear away the cotton.  
  
She seemed to notice his disorientation. She leaned towards him but remained seated with Helena in her lap. She gazed intensely at his crouching form. "You're still with me, right?"  
  
He blinked again and swallowed, mesmerized by the blackness of her swirling eyes. After a few seconds all of the cotton faded mercifully away. "Of course," he murmured. "Still with you."  
  
She clapped. "Good. Then it's time to go. We need to bring Huntress to her new home." She slid Helena off her lap and stood up. Reaching across she hugged him hard and then pressed a kiss to his lips. "You really are a handsome man." Then she turned away from him and looked back at Helena. "I'm so excited," she squealed. "My pet is back." She indicated towards Reese. "Let's go, we have so much work to be done."  
  
He nodded slowly and bent down to pick her up. He lifted her up into his arms and pulled her against his chest. She was fragile but still heavier than he had anticipated due to the leather of her jacket and boots.  
  
Harley waved at him to follow her out the door and he did so without hesitation. She giggled in breathless anticipation.  
  
The game was beginning anew and this time she was certain that she would not lose.  
  
In fact, she was dead certain that she had already won.  
  
* * * He leaned over her and smiled softly. "Would you like some coffee?" He very gently touched her shoulder. She slid her hand over his and squeezed it.  
  
"I think I need it," Barbara Gordon admitted, her eyes still glued to the brightly flashing LCD in front of her. There was an image of a map on the screen and smack in the middle was a faded out marker. Helena's.  
  
"Still not moving," he said more than asked.  
  
"No and I don't know why I think it's going to. Harley had to have removed her comm unit. I don't know how we're going to find her. I don't know how we're going to do it in time..."  
  
"Right now we don't know what the time table is," he insisted. "Do you believe Harley will kill Miss Helena?"  
  
"No," Barbara said. "She went to a lot of trouble to set up this trap." She laughed bitterly. "This trap, which we by the way we just walked right into."  
  
"You didn't know..."  
  
"I did know. I did. The moment she left here, I knew. I should have trusted my instincts." She slammed her hand against the desk. "Dammit."  
  
"It's not that simple," Alfred reminded her. "Sometimes being a hero means walking into a trap."  
  
"Yes," Barbara agreed. "But not with her life. God only knows what that sick psycho has planned for Helena."  
  
"True," Alfred murmured. "But perhaps for now you should get some sleep."  
  
She glanced up at the digital clock and laughed. It was almost three in the morning but she'd barely felt time pass. The last thing she could recall was sending Dinah to bed. The girl was both physically and mentally exhausted and the truth of the matter was, there wasn't a damn thing that Dinah could do to help.  
  
"I'm not going to bed until I have something," Barbara replied just before she lifted her hand to her mouth and stifled a yawn. "So coffee would be nice."  
  
"On its way," he answered, stepping away from her. He watched her for a few moments, his face drawn tight with worry. It was bad enough that Helena's former psychiatrist had gained control of the young woman who went by the codename of Huntress but it was that much more that Barbara thought herself to be implicit in the capture.  
  
If something were to happen to Helena, there would be hell to pay.  
  
And then once that was done, Barbara Gordon would just fall apart.  
  
There'd be nothing left.  
  
"Alfred," Barbara said from in front of him, not even bothering to turn. There was a hint of amusement in her tone.  
  
"Yes?" he asked, blinking twice.  
  
"I'm okay, stop hovering."  
  
"Of course," he chuckled. "I must have picked that up from watching how often you hover over the girls when you're worried."  
  
She snorted loudly. "Wrong way. I picked it up from watching you hover over Helena and I. And before that Dick and I. And Bruce..."  
  
"Point taken," he said with a smile. "I'll get your coffee." He started to move away and then paused and held his footing for a moment. "I would strongly advise that you do take a nap soon. Having you unable to think will do Miss Helena no good at all."  
  
"Alfred..."  
  
"I would strongly advise," he repeated.  
  
She laughed. "I know what strongly advise means. It's right up there with get your ass in bed."  
  
He blinked. "I would never say such words."  
  
"But?"  
  
"They wouldn't be wrong," he admitted with a slight smile. "I'll get your coffee."  
  
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head. She turned back to her LCD and pointed at the faded marker. "Okay, if you started out here, where would be the best place for Harley to have taken you..."  
  
*****  
  
It reached out for her, touching her shoulder with its long bony fingers. She stared back at it and into its black eyes. It opened its mouth as if to speak but only a loud pitiful wail emerged. She tried to tumble back and away but it held her in its deadly grasp. It moved closer as if to kiss her and she screamed.  
  
Her body jerked forward and her eyes ripped open. It was just a nightmare. She could tell that she was drenched in her own sweat. She tried to blink but everything remained dark. After a few seconds she realized that she was wearing dark sunglasses. Confusion settled over her as she fought for her bearings.  
  
She slid to her left and felt something pull against her wrists. She moved her fingers up to check her binds and realized that she was tied to bed. It felt like it was made of metal. She could feet the chill of cold steel beneath her. She yanked hard at her binds but they didn't give any ground at all. She tried lifting her feet and quickly found that she was restrained there as well.  
  
She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. The last thing that she remembered was Wade leaning over her. But that couldn't be, he was dead. It was like an unreal nightmare. She shook her head. Right now that didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was focusing on where she was and how she had gotten there. And who the hell had tied her to a cold as ice bed.  
  
She turned her head slightly and closed her eyes. Not like she could make use of that sense anyways. She inhaled deeply, trying to figure out exactly where she was. She could smell decayed wood and must. That probably meant that she was in a basement somewhere. The air was slightly stale which said that whatever room she was locked in, it had been closed up for a long while.  
  
"Barbara?" she called out, wondering if her comm was still on. Her body felt odd and disconnected so she wasn't quite sure if all of her gear was still attached to her.  
  
Silence greeted her, sending a cold chill all the way up her spine.  
  
"Barbara? Answer me...please..."  
  
She heard a door open a few feet away from her. From the loud creak it made, she guessed that the door was metal reinforced and quite large. That probably meant that they were in some kind of old war bomb shelter or something equivalent to that. She heard footsteps approach her. She strained her head as if to see but then quickly dismissed the idea. It didn't matter anyways; the scent of her captor slid over the staleness of the air and wafted over to her.  
  
There was only one person who smelled like that. Like death and evil. Like lilacs and cloves. Helena clenched her jaw tight, anger making her muscles tense up.  
  
Harley smiled wildly, her eyes dancing mischievously. It was a pleasure to have her former patient at her mercy. The girl excited her in a way few others could. She was wild, obstinate and insanely sexy. Power dripped away from her like water from a faucet. She was the Huntress and used to everyone else being her prey.  
  
Ah but the tables had turned. It was all really a dream come true. She had spent so many days and nights thinking of her revenge, planning it down to the slightest detail. So obsessed had she been with Helena Kyle and Barbara Gordon, that she had probably missed her opportunity for escape on several occasions. But that hardly mattered now because free she was.  
  
"You recognize me, don't you Helena?" Harley cooed as she moved above Helena. She bent down and pressed a hard kiss to the girls' forehead. She ran her fingers across Helena's slightly exposed stomach, laughing when she felt the brunette shudder at the contact. "Now tell me and please be honest, did you sleep well, honey?"  
  
Helena bit her lip but remained silent, muting the angry retort that had jumped into her mind. Now was not the time to play word games with her former shrink. The psychopath had all the power and the scales were hardly balanced.  
  
Harley grinned, exposing white teeth that hid a black soul. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the unique scent of her prey. It was like mandarin soap and New Gotham grime. "You smell so different..."  
  
The brunette licked her lips nervously, a bit of panic rising up through her. The glasses over her eyes left her almost completely at Harley's mercy. Add to that the fact that the blonde made most mental patients look sane and her situation was indeed dire.  
  
Harley smiled, content in the observation that Helena did in fact know whom her captor was. She moved closer to the brunette, effectively invading her personal space.  
  
"How were your nightmares?" Harley asked suddenly. She moved a hand down to Helena's left arm and began to run her fingers across the smooth skin. "I think we solved your anger management problem but I still think you have some residual issues. About your fears mostly."  
  
Helena grit her teeth, refusing to speak.  
  
Harley stepped back away from her former patient and crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a look of disapproval. "Helena," she sang out. "Talk therapy doesn't work without your participation." She shook her head. "Nevermind that, I don't really want to speak to Helena Kyle anyways. I would like to speak to Huntress. I mean she's the strong and impetuous one who lives inside you, right? She's the one pulling all the strings."  
  
Helena swallowed hard, anger building up inside of her. Barbara would have been damn impressed with how hard she was fighting against her natural impulses.  
  
Harley walked towards her, her heels clicking on the cement of the floor. "Tell me, when did Huntress first appear in your life? Does she control you or do you control her? Was she born after your mother was murdered in front of you?" She laughed. "Oh I'm sure the great Barbara Gordon taught you how to control her and how to keep her in check. How droll. But tell me, is she the real you? Is she the primal and violent you? Who is she?"  
  
"She's someone who wants to kick your ass," Helena finally bit off. Well, there had to be some points given. After all she had held out for almost five minutes before finally answering Harley. That was high progress.  
  
Harley clapped her hands. "Good to see you're alive in there. It works so much better if you cooperate."  
  
"Why did you bring me here?" Helena demanded. "What do you want?"  
  
Harley pressed a hand against her chest, as if to feign innocence. "Why, I just wanted us to continue your therapy. I didn't think we were quite done just yet. I mean you had paid for several more sessions. I didn't want to cheat you."  
  
"I think I'll live," Helena snorted.  
  
"No, I insist," Harley replied. She walked around her young prey, surveying the situation. Helena was tied to a large metal bed in the middle of what had once been a bomb shelter for Old Gotham's most important and influential citizens. As such, the room was much larger than normal shelters. In fact the whole underground facility was extreme in size and well cut out for a prison. "We have all of the time in the world so I think it's best that you relax and we work through this slowly."  
  
"Thanks, I'll pass," Helena grunted as she tried to force her binds to release her. After several hard yanks against the metal cuffs, she finally fell still again, grimacing at the pain in her wrists.  
  
Harley grinned. "Huntress, calm down. Do you think that I'm so stupid as to restrain you with common chains? But, back to our point, Helena told me once that the murder of her mother had changed her into someone maybe she wasn't meant to be. Was she talking about you, Huntress?"  
  
"Harley, what the hell do you want?" Helena asked, exhaustion slipping into her muscles. She was in no mood to play games with anyone, especially not her former psychiatrist who had more than a working knowledge of her mind.  
  
"Mmm, funny, that's the same question that Barbara Gordon asked me," Harley mused. She shrugged. "It's very simple really; I want you." 


	11. Harleen's world

"Okay, you have me now. Now what?"  
  
"I'm offering you help, Huntress. I want to release you. I want to get to know the dark side of Helena Kyle. The one who could be an excellent killer. Fast, efficient and insanely deadly." She crawled onto the bed and pressed her head against Helena's chest. "I just need to break the girl first. Break the child and let the killer out."  
  
Helena felt a violent shudder rip upwards from her spine. Harley was at best unpredictable but at worst so insane as to actually be able to pull of whatever madness she had planned.  
  
"Did your realize that you aren't capable of facing your own fears?" Harley asked raising her head and touching Helena's lips with her fingers "What did you see at the warehouse? Tell me. You saw something, something that terrified you. What was that?"  
  
The brunette clenched her jaw, once again unwilling to play.  
  
"What was it Huntress? Maybe the memory of your betrayal of your friends on that night not so long ago?"  
  
"Bitch..." Helena mumbled.  
  
Harley's immediate answer was a hard slap to the left cheek. The force of it was great enough to make Helena jerk her face to the side and hiss in pain as one of the blonde's nails cut into her skin. "The rules are very simple here," Harley informed her. "Number one is, don't ever call me a bitch. It's not very ladylike and I am after all, very much a career woman."  
  
"You're insane is what you are," Helena snorted.  
  
"Am I insane?" the blonde laughed. Then she shrugged. "Perhaps so. In which case, be afraid. You are in my hands now. Now, where were we?"  
  
"You were ranting?"  
  
Harley chose to ignore her. She slid back to Helena's side. "When you were in the warehouse, you breathed in some hallucinatory powder. It allowed you to see whatever it was that was bothering you. What exactly did you see? I mean, you seem so terrified. When I walked towards you, you were in a panic. What were you afraid of?"  
  
Helena shook her head, refusing to answer. Now at least it made sense however. She wasn't fool enough to believe that she had ever really dealt with her guilt about Wade Brixton. Far from it really, the man and his death haunted her nightmares. And Harley had of course used that to her advantage.  
  
She blinked, annoyed by her inability to see her surroundings. She rather figured that it delighted her captor to know that her former patient was unable to size up her situation in any sort of physical manner.  
  
She trembled slightly when she felt Harley saddle up close to her again. A few moments passed and then something cold and hard slid against the bare skin of her belly. She blinked and then realized that Harley was running a long metal knife over her stomach.  
  
"Mmm, sensitive are we?" Harley cooed as she slid the metal up and over her prey's caramel colored skin. Helena grit her teeth but stayed silent. She felt Harley slide the blade up to the buttons of her shirt. She held it there for a long moment and then started to cut away at the fabric. Helena inhaled sharply, appalled by the invasion. She could hear the cloth tear as Harley removed it. A few moments passed before Helena realized that her former shrink had just torn a piece of it away as opposed to the whole thing.  
  
Well that didn't make a hell of a lot of sense...  
  
"Tell me now, how does it make you feel to be blinded? To not know what is going on around you? To be helpless? To wonder what I'm going to do to you?" Harley asked. She rubbed her cheek against Helena's. "Because I'll share if you will. I find this all so very exhilarating. So very exciting."  
  
Anger. Fear. Helplessness. Fury. Frustration. Helena couldn't describe all the things that she was feeling while that evil woman touched her. She moved her head to the side but Harley grabbed her jaw before she could get too far. It pissed her off to no end but the truth of the matter was, Harley was in complete control of the situation.  
  
"Oh Huntress, you have no idea how horrible it was to be blind for all of those months. To have those terrible men doing experiments on me to try to stop my rightfully stolen hypnotic powers. They kept those dreadful glasses on me all the time, sentencing me to darkness." She shrugged. "Then they made one little mistake, one of them took the glasses off during transport from one facility to the next and here I am. With you." She laughed. "You're like a kitten. A sexy naughty little kitten."  
  
"Yeah well this cat doesn't want to play," Helena growled, anger dilating her eyes. She could feel Harley knew her so she punched forward with her head, cracking her skull against Harley's. The glasses she was wearing cut deeply into her captor's flesh, creating a long cut over her brow.  
  
Harley screamed in rage and then lashed out with a hard slap to Helena's jaw. The contact spliced open her lip, spilling blood down and across her chin. It had been a stupid thing to do but the temptation to try to fight back had simply been too great. She felt Harley slide her hands around her throat and then tighten her grasp. Air ripped from her lungs and her eyes bulged.  
  
"Why do you like to complicate things Huntress? Have you any idea why I don't just hypnotize you? I could make you do whatever I want you to do." She shrugged. "That's not what I want however. I want to break you. Break Helena Kyle and bring out Huntress. Just like Mr. J broke Barbara Gordon."  
  
The brunette opened her mouth in a vain attempt to draw air into her lungs. She groaned in pain, the fingers of the doctor were like pincers.  
  
"We've reached rule number two now, Helena. Don't ever touch me. Not without permission. Or a safety word."  
  
Helena gasped, her mind blurring from lack of oxygen. She felt her muscles releasing as darkness crashed in on her. It had nearly overtaken her when Harley finally released her. Bending her head forward she began to hack violently, trying to force air into her wounded windpipe. Large red marks marred her otherwise perfect flesh. She gasped slightly when she felt the cold steel of the knife against her stomach once again.  
  
"I think I'll finish this now," Harley grunted.  
  
"Do it." Helena shot back, her voice almost a whisper.  
  
Harley ran her fingers over the hilt of the knife. She pressed the tip into Helena's skin, her eyes tracking a small spot of blood that formed under the contact. It would be so easy to just push it forward and embed it into the girls' smooth flesh. Anger rushed up through her but her desires finally shot down the fury. She yanked the knife away and then slammed it into the desk next to the bed. It went a good inch into the broken wood.  
  
"No," Harley spat out. "That would be a horrible wasted end for you. It would be too easy and you deserve so much more. So much better." She turned away from Helena. "Detective."  
  
Helena blinked, feeling ice race through her veins. Reese was with Harley? So Barbara really had been right and all of his recent actions had been because of what her former shrink had done. While that made her feel remotely better, it also scared the living hell out of her; Reese was at Harley's mercy.  
  
"Harley, stop this," Helena called out, her voice shaking with fear.  
  
"Oh no," Harley laughed. "We're just getting started. Detective? I don't like to be kept waiting. I do have a schedule to keep up."  
  
Helena heard the door open again and then heavy footsteps. It was definitely Reese. Blinded or otherwise, she knew his scent.  
  
"Did you need something?" he asked, his voice soft but vacant. He didn't quite sound like himself.  
  
"No, I don't really need you anymore," Harley sang out. She approached Reese and wrapped her arms around his well-muscled torso. She slid her hands up under his shirt, enjoying the feel of his rippling skin. She bent forward and kissed him deeply. She was certain that Helena could tell what she was doing. The audience excited her and she deepened the passionate embrace.  
  
Helena felt her blood boil. Anger ripped through her muscles, tightening them into hard rocks of tension. Her heart slammed violently against her chest as the sound of kissing echoed in her ears. She knew what game Harley was playing but was helpless to do anything about it.  
  
"He is handsome," Harley admitted as she finally broke away. "You have an excellent eye for beauty." She reached over to the desk and yanked the knife up and out of the decayed wood.  
  
The brunette could hear something that sounded like Harley hugging him. Then she heard a wet crack, like something slamming violently against bone. Maybe two seconds later a loud thud echoed through the room.  
  
"Reese..."  
  
Harley yawned. "He bored me. I was done with him." She laughed. "And he wasn't very nice to you now was he? Cheating on you with me."  
  
"Was?" Helena asked, her small lithe frame shaking.  
  
"Was," Harley giggled. She wrinkled her nose as she examined the blood on the front of her shirt. She hadn't meant to embed the knife into one of his ribs but it had happened that way and the blood had splattered making an awful mess.  
  
Helena felt a presence settle on the metal bed next to her. She realized very quickly that it was Harley. The smell of iron filled her nostrils. Blood. She had stabbed Reese.  
  
Oh God.  
  
Oh God.  
  
Just like Wade. Just exactly like Wade.  
  
Fucking déjà vu.  
  
"You stupid bitch, what did you do to him?" Helena gasped out, no longer even remotely trying to stop and think. Emotion raged through her, numbing her body and chilling her common sense.  
  
Harley once again reacted violently, slamming the hilt of the blade against her jaw. A cut opened on her cheek and blood spilled down, mixing with the earlier trickle from her busted lip.  
  
"You apparently forgot rule number one, Helena," Harley sang out, this time with fury in her tone. "I don't like that word. It's a dirty word." She grasped Helena's chin tightly in her hand. "Be nice to me and I'll be nice to you. That's how it works."  
  
Helena felt hatred surge up through. There had been a lot of people in her life that she has desperately disliked. There had even been a few that she had hated but none more than her former psychiatrist. She clenched her teeth tightly, unwilling to reveal the absolute depth of her heartbreak.  
  
Reese was dead.  
  
Just like Wade.  
  
Harley bent over her prey. She paused over her a few moments and then leaned over and licked the girls' cheek. Helena shook under the contact, repulsed and disgusted but unable to prevent it.  
  
"You taste so good," Harley laughed. She lifted up the knife and licked the other side. The side with the blood on it. Then she ran it over Helena's cheek, smearing the red fluid on to her skin. "Tell me Helena, what hurts more? Betraying your friends? Knowing that you're responsible for the death of Wade? Or losing your policeman lover?"  
  
Helena swallowed hard. "The only thing that hurts is not being able to kill you..."  
  
Harley feigned shock. "But Helena, what about the superhero code of conduct? No killing..."  
  
"I'll make an exception in your case," Helena growled.  
  
Harley clapped her hands. "Well that's a start." Then she sighed. "I think our first session is over. You were hardly cooperative however which really doesn't help. If we're going to make any progress at all, you really do need to work with me." She paused. "You know, Barbara Gordon is so worried about you, maybe she could convince you to take an active role in your therapy."  
  
"Leave her out of this," the brunette snapped. "This is just between you and me."  
  
"Well that depends on you," Harley noted. "As your therapist I must do everything I can to properly treat you. However, if you cooperate, I see no reason why this can't remain between you and I." She rubbed her hands together. "In the meanwhile, I have a surprise for you."  
  
"I'm so not interested..."  
  
Harley clapped her hands together. "Alushe?"  
  
Helena cocked her head to the side. She wasn't aware of an individual by that name but she didn't harbor any misconceptions about Harley's intents. Whatever the quack was up to, it was definitely of the very bad.  
  
The door opened again and she heard two sets of footfalls. One was a smaller man by the sound of his steps and the other was much larger.  
  
Harley turned to the two men and smiled. "Alushe, honey, it's time to feed."  
  
Helena blinked, panic rising up through her anew. She swung her head to the side to try to explore her possibilities but found that they were just as they had been before; she was trapped.  
  
"Helena, this is Alushe. He was leading a very unfortunate life up until recently. Then I helped him out. Gave him some new abilities."  
  
"Harley..."  
  
"He drinks blood, Helena. But don't call him a vampire. That's so...been there, done that. And he's not one, he can go out in light and staking him won't kill him. A bullet to the head will do that just fine."  
  
"You're boring me," Helena snapped. She knew better than to entice her enemy but her anger, frustration and heartbreak was overwhelming her. She was starting not to care.  
  
"Here's the thing, Alushe needs to feed often however because his blood is well, tainted. It's poisonous to him and he's always in a terrible amount of pain. So he needs your blood to survive. In exchange, he'll give you some of his." She laughed. "We'll see what that does to you. I personally think it'll be quite exciting."  
  
"Harley..."  
  
"Go ahead honey," Harley said to the gawky young man standing in front of her.  
  
He was maybe six foot tall with a shock of dark black hair. His eyes were wide and uncertain and he looked like a scared puppy. A vacant one at that. He was dirty and unkempt and he smelled horribly. Like he's been sleeping in the sewers and bathing in dirty rainwater.  
  
He moved towards Helena, his gait awkward and uncertain. He bent over her, looking confused for a few moments. Then he jammed her neck to the side and bit down hard, his barely pointed teeth roughly ripping into her skin. She cried out, her eyes ripping open in violent protest as he lapped at the blood on her neck.  
  
Harley giggled at the display. Then she turned to the other man. "Torchy, do me a favor and get rid of the good Detective, he's getting blood everywhere." She glanced down at the fallen cop and saw with some dismay that he was still breathing.  
  
That would stop soon enough however. He was unconscious and unlikely to come to on his own. By the time he was located, he would be long dead.  
  
"Sure boss," Torch said as he bent over and lifted the officer up onto his shoulders. "Got a location?"  
  
"Somewhere where he'll be found. I want Barbara Gordon to know." She glanced over at the bed where Alushe was leaning over Helena, pining her down. "Hold on a moment."  
  
She crossed over to the desk next to the bed and picked up the scrap of cloth that she had torn from Helena's shirt. She held it up in the air.  
  
Torch shook his head, eyes locked on the violence on the bed. "That's disgusting."  
  
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Harley reminded him. "Alushe, that's enough."  
  
The boy stopped. He look up at her in confusion, blood dripping from his mouth. She motioned towards the door and he got up and stumbled out, looking like he was stone-cold drunk. Torch watched him go, apprehension in his eyes. He didn't like the freak one bit.  
  
Harley crossed over to Helena and bent down next to her. She examined the wound and smile. "It's not deep." She opened the drawer of the desk next to the bed and pulled out a first aide kit. She snapped it open and examined the contents. After a few moments she finally poured alcohol over the open wound. She rubbed at it with the scrap of cloth from Helena's shirt, clearing away the bloodstains. Then she tapped a gauze pad to it. "Must keep it clean." She turned to Torch. "Leave this on the body for Barbara Gordon to find. I want her to know....everything."  
  
"Sure boss," Torch said. He took the bloody scrap from her and jammed it into the front pocket of Reese's ruined dress shirt. He adjusted the cop over his shoulders and then exited the cell. Harley watched him go for a few seconds and then turned back to her prey.  
  
"You're a fucking psycho..." Helena gasped out, her voice ragged.  
  
"Good night, Helena," Harley said, almost as if humoring her. She bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Helena's lips, moving away before the brunette could attempt to bite her. She gazed at her prey once more and then strode quickly through the metal door, slamming it shut behind her.  
  
Helena let out a deep ragged breath as soon as Harley was good. She blew out air and tried to focus her body. She had no idea what the monster Harley had called Alushe had done to her but she could already feel his blood working it's way through her.  
  
And it felt corrupted.  
  
She sagged back against the bed, squeezing her eyes shut. She knew exactly what Harley was up to and what she wanted as an endgame.  
  
It was simple really.  
  
She wanted to break Helena Kyle.  
  
She wanted to corrupt the Huntress.  
  
She wanted to destroy them both.  
  
She wanted to own them both. 


	12. Living hell

Authors: Jag, Shawn(GF)  
  
Rating: This is a hard R. There is language, there is an extreme amount of violence. There is the hint of some sexual violence and there is a lot of psychological drama. This is not for the weak of constitution nor necessarily those who have just eaten lunch. Enjoy.  
  
He rubbed his eyes and sighed dramatically. Leaning back he stretched his back, wincing at the loud pops it made as he contorted his lean frame. He drew his jacket tighter around his body and moved through the alley, eyes going rapidly from side to side. He'd made this trip at least six dozen times but it never ceased to scare the shit out of him.  
  
Yeah, Dudley Hayward definitely figured that he needed to get himself a car. And soon. This whole walking home from work through the nasty back alleys of New Gotham was greatly over-rated. And actually rather stupid.  
  
He fingered his keys in his pocket. One of them was a little sharper than the others. His girlfriend had insisted upon it. She figured that he could jab someone in the eye with it if they tried to mug him. He rather guessed that he'd probably just panic and freak out.  
  
And still get mugged in the process.  
  
Keychain and all.  
  
He walked through the alley behind the Pasty Shack on third street, huddling himself close and moving very quickly. It was very late at night and quite cold. The rain had stopped for a bit but the sky promised that it would be back. He considered getting another job that would get him home at decent hours but that was a pipedream really. Not at all realistic.  
  
He put his foot down and felt it crunch against something. He looked down and saw an empty bottle of what had once been Coke. It had been a long time since he'd seen it in the glass form. He picked up the bottle and turned it over in hands, momentarily considering bring it home as some kind of trophy.  
  
Then he laughed. "Yeah, she'll love that."  
  
No, actually she'd hate it. She strongly disliked his packrat tendencies and did everything she could actively do to discourage them. Yeah, best not to walk into that fight.  
  
He looked at the bottle once more and then tossed it towards a dumpster that was a few feet away. It spun in the air and then crashed down, thumping heavily against something. Dudley cocked his head to the side, confused. That sound hadn't been right. It had been...well...off.  
  
A voice in his head screamed at him to walk away. It was freaking New Gotham and nothing was exactly right in the city. Things were bizarre and everyone knew it and accepted it. Most kept walking.  
  
But that sound had been so weird...  
  
He crossed over to the dumpster and leaned up, peering in. He moved his hand over a black plastic bag and pushed it to the side so that he could see what the bottle had hit.  
  
"Oh shit," he cursed as he looked into the dumpster. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry. He bent forward again to confirm what he'd seen.  
  
Yeah, he'd actually seen a body.  
  
A real fucking body.  
  
He didn't know whether to shriek or jump. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. He fingered the cell in his hip pocket, knowing that he should call it in.  
  
And he would. In a moment. Right now he wanted to look at the body uninterrupted. He'd never seen one before. Not even at a funeral. They had always been closed-casket.  
  
He slid over the side of the dumpster and jumped down into it. He was mildly aware of the stench of it but the smell of blood was stronger. He pushed several bags away and bent down over the body, reaching a hand down to check for a pulse he didn't expect to find.  
  
When his hand slid against the dark skin of the man's throat, he gasped. "Fuck me, you're alive," he whispered.  
  
His fascination with the dead forgotten, he reached under the man's body and lifted him up against him, using his weight to support him. He jerked up hard, grunting at the effort. With all the strength in him, he pulled the two of them out of the dumpster and onto the dirty hard floor of the alley.  
  
A light from a nearby lamp illuminated the victim just a bit but enough to show the massive wound on the mans' chest. Dudley yanked his jacket off and pressed it against the gory hole, marveling that the man wasn't dead. He had to have lost a ton of blood.  
  
He yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. A few seconds passed and then someone came on the line. "Hi, yes, uh, I found a body. Where? The alley behind the Pasty Shack on 3rd Street...."  
  
He slipped his hand into the man's jacket, searching for ID. He felt the heavy form of a wallet on the left side and yanked at it. Opening it his eyes went even wider. "Uh, ma'am?" he stammered. "The guy I found, I think he's a cop. Yeah, a cop. Uh, his ID says Detective Jesse Reese. Yes ma'am. Yes...of course. My name? Dudley. Dudley Hayward." There was a beat and then he said softly. "No, I'm not going anywhere."  
  
*****  
  
She crossed her legs and leaned casually against the plush red sofa in her office. She flicked her eyes up to take in the elegant little domain that she had scrapped together at the last moment. It wasn't fantastic but it would certainly do. She slipped her long manicured nails between the pages of the New Gotham Reporter. She smiled when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in."  
  
Torch opened the door and stepped in. He frowned down at the drying blood on his white shirt. "I'm back."  
  
"All done then?"  
  
He nodded. "Dumped him in a trash behind the Pasty Shack. Someone should find him when they take the trash out in the morning." He put a bag down on the table. "Picked up a few pasties too."  
  
"Excellent," Harley grinned, standing up. She walked over to Torch and ran her fingers into his hair. He smiled at her, more humoring her than anything else. She glanced into the bag and sniffed the air. "Smells wonderful but they'll have to wait for later."  
  
"Right," he agreed. Then he frowned. "What about the girl? What are we going to do with her?"  
  
"What am I going to do with here," she corrected. "She's my play-toy."  
  
"Uh huh," he admitted. "What are you going to do with her then?"  
  
She shrugged nonchalantly. She crossed away from Torch and moved over to her desk. She picked up a paperweight and turned it over in her palm. "Tomorrow we'll move her to the special bedroom I had built for her. We need to keep working on building the...gang...you know I don't really like that word..."  
  
"I'm sorry," Torch said with a chuckle. "Would you prefer another word?"  
  
"I'm sure I would," Harley agreed. "Find me one."  
  
"Will do," he drawled. "Got a question for you, I mean, why don't you just hypnotize Kyle and send her to get that other bitch you want. I mean, wouldn't that just be easier?"  
  
Harley nodded. "Easier, yes." She dropped her head down and looked at him with an exasperated expression. "But fitfully uncreative. Boring. Unworthy of me. Besides, we've done it before and the great Barbara Gordon would see it coming from a mile away. No honey, I want to play with them both. Play and enjoy my revenge."  
  
"Hey, it's your show," Torch said easily. He glanced around the room.  
  
"Yes it is and don't forget that," she snapped. Then she smiled. "Anyways, you did good."  
  
"Thanks," he muttered. "Hey, what about that weird thing of yours...the one that bit Kyle...what the hell is that all about?"  
  
Harley sighed. "Oh he's just a failed experiment by a pathetic lab. They botched everything. Including my precious baby." She sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping as she thought about the genetically altered child that they had created for him. The child that Helena Kyle had stolen and made her own.  
  
"Do I want to know?"  
  
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Alushe was their last experiment for me." She smiled. "Before I fired them all. Now that was fun."  
  
"And what exactly is his point?"  
  
"He's a human dirty needle. When he feeds, he replaces the blood he takes with what he already has which is diseased and damaged. He infects his victim. I've seen some wonderfully horrible results. I can't wait to see what his blood does to her."  
  
"I bet," Torch mused as he watched Harley circle back over to him. She slid her arm into hers.  
  
"Enough of that though," she said with a laugh. "It's all coming along so well but there is so much to be done and so little time."  
  
*****  
  
"Miss Barbara?" he said from the doorway, his voice soft. He watched her carefully, his features drawn tight with worry. Her sleep was so troubled these days that it almost made him sick to pull her away from what appeared to be a dreamless few hours of rest.  
  
She turned in her bed, burrowing her face into her pillows. Her fingers crept into the folds of her blankets but she remained silent. He crossed over to her and dropped a hand to her shoulder, giving her a very slight shake.  
  
"Alfred?" she mumbled, sitting up and blinking. She slid her palms down to the mattress, pressing them flat to give her support and balance. She turned to her digital clock and blinked as she gazed at the bright red numbers. "Four?"  
  
"I'm afraid so," he said with a nod. "Something has just come up that I think you should see."  
  
"Of course," she said with a dry humorless laugh. She cocked her head to side. "Any chance that all of last night was just a really bad dream and Helena is sound asleep upstairs?"  
  
"Were it so," Alfred replied, shaking his head. He helped her out of the bed and into the chair. He was the only person she would ever allow to help her in that manner which wasn't lost on him. It actually rather touched him.  
  
They ascended from her personal apartment to the command center in silence, her mind whirling with the possibilities. When she moved in front of her computers, her heart viciously slammed up against her ribcage.  
  
"Oh no," she gasped.  
  
Her hand trembling she bent forward and pressed a key. The screen flashed and the audio of the 911 call that had been received played over the speakers.  
  
"The guy I found, I think he's a cop."  
  
"A cop sir?"  
  
"Yeah, a cop."  
  
"Sir, what does his ID say? Whose name is on it?"  
  
"Uh, his ID says Detective Jesse Reese."  
  
Barbara turned her chair and looked up at Alfred. "Tell me this isn't happening."  
  
"I took the liberty of calling the hospital and inquiring about my grandson. I was told that he was in surgery," Alfred said softly.  
  
"Grandson?" Barbara cracked. "You a Hawke?"  
  
"Oh heavens no," he drolled. "Didn't you know I was raised in the hood?"  
  
"You know Helena would kill you if she ever heard you say that,"  
  
Barbara laughed. Then she paused and frowned. "Or drop dead in shock."  
  
"Then I would imagine I'll have to remember that one," he smiled, his eyes kind and sparkling. He moved next to her. "Master Reese is still alive..."  
  
"And my suspicions are confirmed, Harley had him the entire time." She shook her head. "God, she had him and we did nothing about it." She looked back at the screen. When she spoke again her voice cracked hard. "He was stabbed, Alfred, just like Wade."  
  
"Miss Barbara..."  
  
"Now look, I'm not some psycho crazed lunatic like Harley but if my whole gig is revenge and I want to really hurt Helena, and you know, that woman probably knows her mind better than most..."  
  
"Miss Barbara..."  
  
"And I know she's guilty over Wade, you know what I'd do? I'd kill Reese right in front of her, in the exact same way..."  
  
He squeezed her shoulder. "You don't know that right now and you mustn't concentrate on that." He pointed at the screen. "What does that mean?"  
  
She took her glasses off and looked at the screen. "It's the inventory of what was found on him. The lab collected what appeared to be a scrap from a cotton shirt with blood on it. It was located in his breast pocket. Tests are planned for the morning." She turned back to Alfred. "I need that sample or at least part of the DNA on it."  
  
"Should I wake Miss Dinah?"  
  
Barbara snorted. "Yeah that'd be stealthy. She can limp away from the security guards."  
  
"Then perhaps..."  
  
"Don't even say it. I'm not sending you skulking underground."  
  
He shrugged. "Always wanted to know what it would be like to steal into a lab under cover of night. Perhaps I could get my own leather overcoat."  
  
"That's two," Barbara laughed. "One more and we might have to start keeping a collection for her."  
  
"Indeed. All right then, who did you have in mind. Surely not you."  
  
"Yeah, you remember the part about Dinah not being stealthy because of her crutches?" He nodded. "Well my chair works even better."  
  
"Ah self-depreciation."  
  
"Try truth," she laughed. He turned back towards the switchboard and dialed a number. A few rings sounded and then a very sleepy voice answered.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Gibson?"  
  
"Oracle?"  
  
"Yes, great that we're acquainted. I need your help."  
  
There was a sound like blankets being moved and then footsteps. "What's up?"  
  
"I need you to do me a favor."  
  
"Anything for you. Do I need to pick up the beautiful Huntress from a party and take care of her overnight?"  
  
Barbara paused. She looked back at Alfred with a look of bemusement. He just shrugged. "Uh no."  
  
"Oh," he replied between yawns. "Then what then?"  
  
"I need evidence from the forensics lab downtown," she said, her tone a bit cautious. Gibson was one of Helena's oldest friends and he had helped them out on many an occasion but still, this was definitely new. She had never asked him to run a solo mission.  
  
"Why don't you just send Helena? She loves breaking and entering."  
  
Barbara laughed, this time fully, in spite of the situation. She shook her head and then said softly. "I can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I...I just can't..."  
  
She heard movement and then the phone being adjusted. "What do you mean you can't?" Gibson demanded. "Is she all right?"  
  
Barbara closed her eyes for a beat and blew out air. "No, no Gibson she's not."  
  
"What happened? Who hurt her?"  
  
"Look, Harley has her and we don't have a lot of time so right now I need you not to ask me a thousand really unimportant questions and I need you to work with me for once. You're Helena's best friend and right now I need you to act like it."  
  
There was a beat and then very softly he said, "Okay."  
  
She winced a bit, realizing that she had stung him. It was his natural state to be inquisitive and curious and the questions he had asked were no different than those that anyone else logically would have.  
  
"Gibson..."  
  
"Tell me what you need," he said abruptly.  
  
She shook her head and silently cursed at herself. She would have to deal with that later. Wonderful, one more things to have regrets about.  
  
"You remember Helena's boyfriend?"  
  
"Detective Reese?"  
  
"Yes. Harley got him and she hurt him."  
  
"Oh God..."  
  
"In his jacket there was a scrap of cloth...I'm not sure what, but it had blood on it. I need that sample. I can't think of any other reason for it to be in his pocket unless...."  
  
"Unless the infamously sinister Harley Quinn left it for you to find," Gibson finished for her.  
  
"Right. Yes."  
  
"The forensics lab downtown?"  
  
"Yes. It's listed as being in Box 32-H."  
  
"I'm on it," he said simply.  
  
"Are you sure you can do this?" she asked, her voice soft. She was starting to have second thoughts about sending the typically bumbling bartender into such a covert situation.  
  
"I'll get the evidence. I assume you want me to bring it to the Clocktower?"  
  
"Yes. Gibson..."  
  
"I'll be there shortly," he said. There was a pause and then he hung up the phone.  
  
"Ouch," she said as she turned to Alfred.  
  
"He'll understand," Alfred said with a smile. "Now I'm going to get you some tea while we wait for Master Gibson to return. I rather suspect that just as it was a long evening, it's going to such a morning."  
  
She sighed. "You're probably right."  
  
*****  
  
A drop of water crashed to the floor, echoing through her eardrums. It sounded like thunder in a tunnel. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and parched. She turned her head towards the wall.  
  
She had tried for several hours to fall asleep, knowing instinctively that she would need all the rest she could get. She had no real understanding of the situation she was in aside from the fact that it was definitely very dire.  
  
Her attempts at sleep however had all been in vain.  
  
Something was definitely wrong.  
  
She heard a strong scratching sound on the wall and turned her head towards it. She blinked, annoyed by the glasses that were cutting off her vision. She heard the noise again and frowned, wondering what it was.  
  
She moved her foot to straighten it and the metal cuff jingled, sounding like a damn orchestra in her ears. She winced at the pain of it, wondering why her hearing had suddenly become so super-sensitive.  
  
She shifted her body and gasped as her arm slapped against the cold metal of the bed. She shuddered violently, a wave of pain kicking up through her. Her skin felt electric.  
  
Yeah, something was really wrong.  
  
And it had something to do with that weird thing that had bitten her.  
  
She cocked her head to the side, feeling the tightness of her neck. The wound on her throat was still very raw and wet. She couldn't tell if it was oozing blood but it sure felt like it. That creature, Harley had called him Alushe, had taken a huge bite out of her flesh.  
  
He had been like a slobbering, smelly, drunk vampire.  
  
Only not quite.  
  
His teeth hadn't been terribly pointy which had just made the oral invasion all the more violent and gruesome. He had ripped at her flesh, tearing it away so that he could lap at the blood.  
  
And he had given something back.  
  
She had smelled when he had been over it. It has been like death and decay and maybe even something worse. He had done something to her. Something she couldn't even begin to comprehend.  
  
Something that was just starting.  
  
She blinked and closed her eyes tight, searching for that elusive bit of rest that she sensed would be so vital to her mental health in the long run. Harley was trying to break her down which meant she had to be stronger than even,  
  
Exhaustion didn't tend to help in that regards.  
  
Nor did the soaring emotions rushing through her.  
  
She shook her head, desperate not to think about it.  
  
"Doesn't work like that," she muttered to herself, her voice cracking. Idly she wondered if there was a camera in the room. A stray mischievous thought ripped through her mind but her anger quickly overwhelmed her.  
  
Harley had murdered Reese.  
  
Just like she had Wade.  
  
Well then it was getting to be a good thing that Dinah had all of the love life of a nun right out of the convent. Helena frowned. That was a thought she didn't quite want to explore. And yet knew she was at length at some point or another.  
  
She squeezed her hands tight, turning them into fists. The emotion whipped up through her, almost blinding her with rage. Three nights ago she had been lying in Reese's arms, enjoying his touch.  
  
And now because of her feelings for him, he was dead.  
  
Wade had died because of her betrayal and now Reese because of her love.  
  
And the worst part of it was, she had known better. She had warned herself about getting involved, about falling for him. She had known that it would be dangerous. And then he had managed to convince her to give it a try; he had promised her that it would take a lot to get him out of her life.  
  
Yeah, just a knife through the ribs.  
  
And one more person she loved lost.  
  
Which left only Barbara and Dinah now.  
  
And that meant that no matter what Harley did to her, she had to protect them.  
  
No matter what.  
  
She swallowed hard, appalled that she could hear the sound so clearly. She fidgeted, her skin feeling like it was crawling and in fact moving. It wasn't of course but that hardly mattered.  
  
Everything felt so wrong.  
  
So sick and diseased.  
  
She wondered if she was dying.  
  
She shook her head.  
  
She knew better.  
  
Harley had no intention of killing her anytime soon.  
  
She pressed her eyelids closed and whispered softly into the air, "Hey Oracle, any chance you're there?" She paused. "No, didn't think so. That's okay." She laughed. "I guess now we really have something in common, huh?"  
  
She stopped, amazed by her own words. It wasn't like her to have what felt like a nervous breakdown. She bit down hard on her lip to stop her words, her mind racing in circles.  
  
That thing had done something to her.  
  
Harley was trying to break her.  
  
She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead into the darkness of the glasses. She heard the drops of water crashing heavily against the floor and the thing on wall roughly hacking away at the rocky surface. Madness really.  
  
Or all in a days work.  
  
In any case, Harley was going to have to wait awhile for her ultimate revenge, whatever the hell that may be.  
  
Because neither Helena Kyle nor the Huntress had any intention of breaking anytime soon.  
  
For better or worse.  
  
"Yeah Oracle," she whispered low and under her breath. "I'm still here."  
  
***** 


	13. My own hell

She tossed and turned for several hours. Well at least as much as she could manage while still bound tightly to the metal bed. Her body ached under the movement, her skin and muscles screaming in protest every single time they connected with anything solid. The sound of what she had now guessed was likely a spider walking up and down the wall as well as the dripping water thundered loudly in her eardrums. She was exhausted. Everything hurt and her mind felt like cotton. Her normal instincts and senses were overwhelmed by all of the sensory input and she felt almost dizzy.  
  
Just the same, she tried to focus. Harley's intents were obvious. She meant no good at all. Well okay that was painfully obvious and hardly took a genius to figure out. Her intent was revenge; that much was fitfully clear. Against Barbara and Dinah. "Have to stop her," Helena murmured, the words barely intelligible.  
  
Yeah and if only it were all that easy.  
  
But the reality of the situation was far more dire. She was tied to a bed, drugged and barely lucid. Her chanced of formulating a decent escape plan hardly looked promising.  
  
Helena lifted her head, suddenly aware of something moving towards her. Her eyes dilated painfully as a rather distinct odor invaded her nostrils.  
  
Harley.  
  
And she smelled him too; that dirty horrible creature that had attacked her. She heard their footsteps as they came closer. Idly she wondered how she could hear through what had to be solid steel. The heavy metal door opened, screeching loudly. The wailing of the rusted metal assaulted her ears and she winced in pain.  
  
"Hello Helena, how do you feel?" Harley cooed from the doorway. She slid it shut behind her and indicated for Alushe to go into the corner. He did so wordlessly and then turned to gaze at her with large wide eyes.  
  
"Just fine," Helena drawled. "Was wondering when you'd show up again."  
  
Harley cocked her head to the side, amusement playing on her lips. "Oh why? Did you miss me?" She watched Helena closely for reaction. When she saw none she pushed on, "I had things to do. Preparations to make."  
  
Helena wrinkled her nose as the smell of decay assaulted her in violent waves. She turned her head towards Alushe, smelling him but not seeing him. "I see you brought your pet back," Helena said calmly. Her head felt rather like she was being kicked by a thousand Oompa Loompas on crack but she knew that she had to keep her emotions on an even keel. At least for now.  
  
"Yes," Harley murmured, glancing at the strange young man who was crouched low in the corner. "He wants to taste you again. You left quite the impression on him." She paused. "And me."  
  
Helena blinked, not quite understanding. She didn't have long to contemplate the odd comment before she felt a hand settle on her hip. Confusion contorting her face, she felt her former therapist apparently crawling over his lithe frame, almost like a lover. Lack of understanding quickly gave way to anger and irritation at the touch of her captor.  
  
"What do you want now?" Helena asked feeling tired. She trembled a bit when she felt Harley slide a hand down her shirt to where it lifted to reveal her bare midriff. The touch of the woman's fingers sent electricity flying through her. Her skin was too sensitive and everything was causing a reaction. It pissed her off to no end that she was giving the woman exactly what she wanted.  
  
"Helena, my dear, I think we should have another session. I don't think either of us was satisfied with the....shall we say...lack of progress from yesterday. I think we should start fresh." She slid her fingers across her prey's flesh, enjoying the reaction she got as Helena tried to flinch away.  
  
"Not a good idea right now," Helena gritted out between tightly clenched teeth. She closed her eyes tight, trying to control the pain coursing through her body. The touches along her skin didn't feel good; they felt like fire and the hurt like bloody hell.  
  
Harley smiled as she felt the brunette shake under her touch. "I see you're enjoying this. You're so responsive," she murmured. She bent closer so that her mouth was near Helena's ear. "Do you like sex Huntress?"  
  
Helena opened her eyes and looked up. She couldn't see her tormentor but she could feel her close by. "Yes," she said, her tone hard. "But I usually don't bed down with psychopaths."  
  
Harley pressed her forehead against Helena's, delighting in the shiver she got as a reaction. "That's not quite true now is it Helena?" She smiled widely, in an almost predatory fashion. "You like danger. You actively seek out the excitement of someone as deranged as you are. You crave the passion of dementia. The more unbalanced and psychotic, the better. And that includes your bed partners."  
  
Helena snorted. "The only thing I crave is seeing you back in Arkham wearing a nice little white jacket." She adjusted her body a few inches, trying to slide away from Harley's invasive presence. The woman was definitely abusing the personal space rules. Assuming of course that she cared which considering the fact that she was a demented homicidal whack- job was hardly a given.  
  
Harley flicked her cheek hard and Helena hissed. Normally the obnoxious contact would have just annoyed her but with her skin as hyperactive as it apparently was, it felt like fire racing along the thin lines of her nerves.  
  
"Wrong answer," Harley snapped. "Do you realize that I own you, Helena? You belong to me now. You're like a little toy that I can do whatever I wish to. If I want to break you and then put you back together again, I can. If I want to tear you apart and toss you in the garbage, I can do that too. You're mine."  
  
"I'm not yours," Helena replied, jaw set hard. "I don't belong to anyone."  
  
"What's wrong Helena? You don't like to be touched? I wouldn't have figured you for that at all," Harley said as she reached out and traced a finger across the hard muscles of Helena's abdomen. "You're far too responsive for that to be true and we both know it."  
  
Helena swallowed hard, agitated by the violent tremor that ripped through her body. She could feel her heart slam against her chest, threatening to break through and let her bleed. Let her die.  
  
Harley laughed at the physical reaction. She lowered her voice. "What are you feeling right now? Are you excited? Turned on maybe?" She licked her lips in an almost hungry manner. "You like this don't you?" She ran her hand down from the girls' abdomen to the waistband of her leather pants. "Do you want to feel good Helena? I can make you feel good."  
  
"You're not really my type," Helena growled. "Dammit, get the hell away from me." She felt anger rip through her, energizing her blood. She was neither amused nor intrigued by whatever the hell game her captor was playing with her.  
  
"Am I lying? Am I telling you something that isn't true?" Harley's thumb played between her skin and the leather of her pants at her waistband. Helena held her breath and closed her eyes trying to stay focused on keeping some semblance of control. Harley laughed again; it amused her to see the brunette struggling so badly.  
  
"Tell me Huntress, tell me what you like and how you like it..."  
  
Helena looked up at her sharply, suddenly not caring if Harley could see her eyes and the expression therein. "What I want, you don't have." There was terribly sadness in her tone as she reflected on exactly what her words meant. And then just as abruptly, she pushed those thoughts away. There was nothing she could do about him now. Surely there would be time enough for that later.  
  
Assuming she survived of course. One couldn't really mourn the dead when you yourself were it.  
  
Harley laughed and took her hand away from Helena, eliciting an unconscious sigh of relief from the girl. "Perhaps that's true Helena but being that the good Detective is dead, I think you'll have to adjust. I think you'll have to learn to like something new. Accept what's offered." She bent back over Helena and pressed her mouth against the brunette's ear. "But tell me, how do you feel now? Excited?" She gently bit down on Helena's earlobe; more teasing than trying to actively hurt her  
  
Helena cried out, quite involuntarily. She immediately bit down hard on her lip to stop the sound but she couldn't keep from tightly clenching her eyes against the pain that stormed through her. Whatever had been done to her nerves, she simply couldn't handle any kind of physical contact.  
  
"Helena, let Huntress out, let her answer me." Harley whispered rubbing her face against her prey's neck. She bit at the flesh there, marking the spot just above Alushe's previous wound. "What's your issue Harley?" Helena snapped out, her voice dripping with anger. "I mean I know you're a fucking psycho but trying to seduce someone tied to a bed, that's even more depraved than I'd given you credit for."  
  
Harley pulled back and slapped Helena hard, her palm cracking against the girls' cheek like thunder sounding in a church. Helena bit down so hard into her lip that blood seeped out and spilled over onto her chin. She tasted iron in her mouth.  
  
"I would caution against trying to think for yourself Helena. It's really not something you do well," Harley retorted. She stepped back and away from her captive and looked her over. It was indeed her rebellious and angry nature that had attracted her to the brunette in the first place. Calm then. Calm.  
  
"Yeah, look who's talking," Helena said, lip quivering and red with blood. "This thinking thing ain't going so well for you either now is it?"  
  
Harley chose to ignore her and decided to change tracks. It was time to get things going back in the direction she had intended. "Helena, I'm not the one to blame here. You must understand that. You and I will never get anywhere with your therapy if you continue blaming me for what happened. I'm a criminal. It's what I do." She smiled when she saw the confusion play across Helena's face. Still very much a child. "You're the one who betrayed your friends and family. And oh poor sweet Barbara Gordon. She picked you up off the street when no one wanted you and how did you repay her? By betraying her trust and getting her beloved Wade Brixton murdered."  
  
"Fuck you..."  
  
"You told me about Barbara and Wade. I killed him for you. You told me who he was. It was you. I never would have known about him if not for you. But thanks to you I did...and well...I think it was my best kill ever. All thanks to you."  
  
"I trusted you," Helena shot back. "That was my mistake. You killed Wade. Not me."  
  
"You stole away her opportunity to be... a woman again. Do you think another man could ever have interest in a useless woman like her? Men are pigs Helena; they don't tend to have much interest in a woman who can't walk. Wade was...unique."  
  
"She's not useless," Helena growled.  
  
"Oh how naïve you are," Harley laughed. "What man would actually care about a woman confined to a wheelchair?" She shook her head. "But Wade did apparently and you stole that from her. You stole her second chance. Oh Helena, your father left you behind and she took you in. If she hadn't, God only knows what you'd have become. You'd probably be crawling around in a gutter right about now."  
  
"No," Helena hissed, her eyes dilating. She wanted desperately to lash out at the insane woman but the metal cuffs held her tight. She fought against her former therapists words, knowing full well that she had wondered a thousand times what would have happened to her had it not been for Barbara's astonishing act of generosity. In truth, Harley really wasn't all that far off. God alone knew who she'd have become if not for Barbara taking her in.  
  
"Barbara saved you and you betrayed her. It's that simple really," Harley reminded her, in an almost sing-song voice.  
  
"No..."  
  
"Do you sleep at night Helena? I mean do you dream about him? Do you dream about telling me about him? Don't tell me you don't feel guilty. I know better. You gave him to me. You're as much responsible as I am."  
  
"Fuck off," Helena snapped back, anger in her voice. Harley wasn't all that far off but she had no intention of allowing the psychopath to know that.  
  
"What did you see last night? Was it Wade? Did you see him because of your guilt? Because you know the truth even if you won't admit it?" Harley pressed. She paced around Helena, her heels clicking loudly against the floor.  
  
"I didn't kill him you psycho bitch," Helena cried out, hatred in her words. If not for the chains between them, she was pretty damn certain that she would have already ripped Harley's black heart from her chest.  
  
The doctor answered her words with a hard slap to her left cheek. "You've been warned," she snapped at Helena. "I don't like that word."  
  
"Deal," Helena replied shortly.  
  
Harley grabbed the brunette's neck with her hands. Helena gritted her teeth feeling Harley's fingers burying into the gauze that covered the bloody wound she had received on the previous night. "Tell me that how many times has Barbara Gordon stopped you from killing. Tell me it doesn't piss you off every time she does? Tell me it doesn't frustrate you? Tell me you don't want to taste blood? Tell me that I'm lying Helena!" Harley shook her. "You want to kill. You hunger to kill. Every time she stops you, your blood burns with rage. It's who you are. It's who we are."  
  
"You're a sick lunatic and we're nothing alike," Helena said, shaking her head in disgust.  
  
"Right now Helena, all you are is my prey," Harley purred. She moved back down to the bed. She grinned at the young girl; she had the enticing Huntress completely under her control and it gave her a sensation of astonishing power. And why not? She had in her possession the daughter of the mighty Batman and the mysterious Catwoman. She had her and consequently, she had Barbara Gordon too. "You know killing is in your nature."  
  
"So is kicking your ass," Helena assured her, trying to sound as bored as she could manage.  
  
Harley chuckled. She bent down over Helena and ran her fingers over the side of the brunette's face. She stopped her slow inspection just behind Helena's ear, right where the latch for the glasses attached to the lock. She unhooked it and removed the dark shades from around the girls' eyes. "I don't think we'll be needing these anymore."  
  
The brunette blinked. Her eyes were two thin blurry lines, painfully dilated from the extended lack of light. Just the same, the turbulent blue color snapped out from under half-droopy eyelids. Like the ocean during a hurricane thought Harley with delight. Helena tried to focus but the bright lights in the cell left her temporarily dazed and disorientated.  
  
Harley grabbed her throat roughly, pulling Helena away from her attempts to regain her vision and reminding her of her pressing issue; her captivity. "I want you to behave," Harley said softly, her angry eyes in stark difference to her "let's all just play nice" tone. "Alushe."  
  
Helena trembled involuntarily, momentarily caught in the memory of the first time that the strange creature had fed from her. She glanced up and stared in horror at the creature against the wall. He was an odd looking boy, probably at one time even a good-looking man. Now he was little more than a hungry monster desperately in need of her blood. Anything to make the pain in his body cease for even a few seconds. He lumbered towards Helena, his gait awkward and unsteady. He licked his lips in anticipation, eyes on his unwilling prey. She searched him for some signs of humanity but found none. Whatever Harley had done to the poor boy, he was no longer even remotely human.  
  
Harley stepped in his way. "Don't touch her yet," she snapped at her creation. He immediately cowered back, terrified by the crack of her voice. Sensing that she had his attention she said softly. "Take her to the room." She glanced at Helena. "I wouldn't try anything Helena, he's quite hungry and in quite a good deal of pain. It wouldn't take much for him to just...snap." She popped her fingers against each other as if to provide an example. The noise echoes across the room and Helena winced, her eyes drawing tightly together and her brow furrowing.  
  
Helena turned her head away from Alushe as he approached. His smell was horrible and it assaulted her already hyper-stimulated senses. She felt her stomach roll but managed to just barely keep it all together. He reached up over her and released the chains. She thought to lash out at him but was never afforded the opportunity before he roughly grabbed her shoulder and yanked it. She felt the joint explode in agony as the ball popped out of the socket. Crying out, she bit down hard on her lip, once again tearing it. Idly it occurred to her that she had torn the tender flesh of her lips to shreds. Yeah, gloss really wasn't going to be able to cover that much damage.  
  
"He will break your arm," Harley assured her, grinning with delight as she watched the girls' pain. Whatever was going on due to Alushe's blood running through her system, this was all just making it that much worse.  
  
Which was wonderful of course.  
  
Unable to fight back, Helena allowed Alushe to lift her up and toss her haphazardly over his shoulder. He slid a hand under the back of her shirt but there was nothing even remotely sexual about the contact. He was simply searching for a way to hold her in place. His fingers latched onto the leather of her waistband. A stray thought about him tearing her expensive duds crossed her mind. She shook her head in amazement, astonished that even a small part of her could be bemoaning the loss of good clothes during a time like this.  
  
Well they were really nice pants.  
  
And gallows humor didn't really know an appropriate time or place.  
  
Helena tried to open her eyes but the brightness of the lights hurt her. He carried her out of the cell and down a long corridor. She could hear the sound of steps as he descended them. After almost five minutes he dropped her against a wall, slamming her back into hard plaster surface. She grunted in pain. He moved his face up against her, sniffing loudly at her throat.  
  
She pushed back against him with her good arm, shoving him off. "Get the fuck off me," she growled.  
  
He ignored her, reaching out to lick her neck. She felt his blunt teeth graze the flesh of her throat and she shuddered under the contact. She pushed out with her foot and knocked him away. "Not the All You Can Eat table," she muttered. "Uh uh, kitten," Harley reprimanded as she walked into the cell, flanked closely by Torch who was holding a large pistol in his hands. "I know that I said to behave and not try anything. You and Alushe must learn to play nice." She nodded to Torch. "Go ahead."  
  
Torch took her hands and cuffed them together. The chains were loose however and afforded her quite a bit of movement. Probably too much in fact. He reached down and chained her ankles as well. The restraints were not unlike the type used when a prisoner was brought into a courthouse; all one piece. The sound of metal cuffs jingled loudly, sounding like a damn orchestra in her ears. She winced in pain.  
  
When Torch finished, he stepped back. "All good," he drawled, sounding almost drunk and terribly pleased with himself. He watched with some disgust as Alushe immediately circled back over to the brunette and startled nuzzling into her neck.  
  
"Leave her alone Alushe." Harley ordered to the creature.  
  
He looked her with an imploring look. He wanted to taste her. He needed her. His mouth watered and his skin burned. A distant memory of a different time rang like a bell in his head but the hunger blurred it. He needed her blood. He needed relief.  
  
"I said leave her alone," Harley snapped at him, her posture changing abruptly to one of power and dominance. He immediately responded, fear in his eyes.  
  
Disappointed and terrified, he pulled away from his prey, dropping her. Helena fell heavily to the floor holding her neck, she was sure he had opened the wound again. She pulled herself into a ball on the floor, cradling her wounded arm. Every part of her body hurt like hell. In short she was on fire.  
  
"This is your new home kitten," Harley told her as she walked around the room. "I think it's rather comfortable myself. You have a bathroom and a bed. Torch will bring you food later. So be nice, and I'll be nice with you. Behave for long enough and I might even unchain you and allow you walk around in here by yourself."  
  
"Fuck off," Helena snorted, letting it be known that she had no intention of playing nice. "What the hell do you want with me? Isn't this a little bit much just to get laid?" She knew full well that she was playing with fire and that whatever Harley's intention were, they were about far more than just a sexual thrill and enticement but she had no intention of allowing her captor to see just how scared she really was.  
  
"I want the real you Helena. I want the Huntress. She's the sexy, rough and dangerous one. I want her. Don't you think she wants me too?"  
  
"No," Helena replied shortly, locking her hazy eyes on Harley. "She has better taste than that."  
  
The blonde decided to ignore the obvious insult. "We're a lot alike she and I. We both like power and control. We both like having life and death in our hands." She smiled evilly at Helena. "I like having it over you."  
  
Harley looked back at Alushe. She smiled and nodded. A few seconds later Helena felt him over crawling over her again. She tried to kick him away but he was fast and strong. He held her arms and she cried out in agony and horror as he sunk his blunt teeth into her throat again. He ripped at the flesh, tormenting it with his incisors. She tried to pull away from him but he held her down with a hard fist into the middle of her gut. She heard a dull crack but only vaguely recognized it as the sound of one of her ribs breaking.  
  
Her vision blurred but she could still hear the sounds of him roughly lapping at the blood on her neck. He hadn't opened a vein but he had created quite a nasty gouge and he was feeding from that, replacing her blood with his own diseased fluids. She made a thick gurgling noise as she tried to breathe.  
  
Torch shook his head in disgust, appalled by the sight before his eyes. The usually beautiful girl was anything but as she lay there being ravaged by the monster. Her eyelids were half open and her body was shaking fiercely. Her left hand was spasming horribly as she fought for some degree of balance. He reached over to the table and picked up a Polaroid camera. He snapped a quick picture and then another. He dropped the two prints on to a table and put the camera back down. "Oh God," he muttered.  
  
"Don't like you the show Torch?" Harley laughed.  
  
"I'm just glad I didn't eat first," he said, wincing as he watched the carnage. He almost felt for the girl as the disgusting creature continued to tear at her. Her pain and torment were obvious. He had no idea what she had done to Harley but it had to have been something fairly major to deserve this degree of torture.  
  
"Oh how dramatic," she laughed. "I think it's a beautiful thing. Man helping out each other. How giving. How wonderfully altruistic."  
  
"Right," Torch said, shaking his head. "Whatever you say Boss."  
  
Alushe pushed harder against his prey, grunting in frustration as he failed to draw more blood from her. His teeth weren't strong enough to open a vein so he had to settle for what he could create by tearing at her skin. She pushed at him but he resisted, using his size to hold her in place.  
  
"Our little Helena Kyle is a really strong little girl Torch. She is dangerous, true but I'm sure that if I could release the beast inside her, I could manage her as easily as I have Alushe." She looked at the two figures struggling on the floor. "That's enough Alushe. Let her go."  
  
The creature looked up at his master, dismay in his eyes. He pleaded with her silently, begging her to allow him to continue his feeding.  
  
"I said enough!" Harley shouted.  
  
He apparently decided to ignore her. He dropped his head back to Helena's neck and bit down again, causing the brunette to cry out. Harley growled, infuriated by his defiance. She picked up a long wooden stick that was leaning against the door and slammed it forcefully against his back. "Now!"  
  
He released Helena and crawled away from her, moving towards the corner of the room. Harley didn't let him go far before she slammed the stick down on his head and shoulders, causing him to howl in pain. "You will listen to me," she hissed at him. "You will not disobey or you will not feed."  
  
He hid his face between his hands and crouched in the corner looking up at her in fear. "I think he gets it," Torch said, frowning. The whole scene made him terribly uncomfortable and he was a murderer eleven times over.  
  
"Good," Harley replied, her eyes already back at on her original target. She crossed over to the far wall, which Helena was leaning heavily against. The brunette was barely conscious and her breathing was labored. Harley cocked her head and lifted her fingers up to examine the wound on the girls' neck.  
  
"She still alive?" Torch asked, not sure which he'd prefer. He was all for a good torture but this seemed like too much. This was truly horrific and grotesque.  
  
"Looks rather ugly," Harley admitted, though she didn't seem terribly upset. She reached out her hand and Torch handed her a first aide kit. "You're going to be okay," she promised Helena. "But perhaps you'll start to understand that the only way you're going to survive is by letting the Huntress out. Helena can't do it."  
  
"Bitch...."  
  
Harley smiled widely, deeply impressed. "I love your strength dear, you are really quite amazing. How about this, as a reward for surviving the first two days I promise to call Barbara Gordon. Is there anything you would like me to say to her? I'm sure she'll be happy to know that you're alive."  
  
Helena closed her eyes, unwilling to speak. God only knew what Harley had planned for Barbara but she had no intention of helping out whatever it be.  
  
"Nothing to say? That's too bad," Harley said, shaking her head. "Well in any case, we took some pictures of you and Alushe. I thought she should see them. I think she'll be delighted to know that you're still alive." She bent down and kissed her captive's forehead. "In the meanwhile, I have things to do. You should...try to sleep. Sweet dreams." She touched Helena's cheek and then moved away, snapping her fingers. "Alushe, come."  
  
There was the sound of feet scrapping the floor and then the door shut, leaving her in the silence of the cell. Through hazy eyes she glanced around and saw that she was indeed by herself. Calmed a bit by that revelation, she dropped back to the floor and lay there, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
The pain tearing through her body was horrific. The creature had mauled her but that was only part of it. His diseased blood was doing something to her, tainting her. Changing her somehow.  
  
Something was happening.  
  
Something very bad.  
  
She tried to focus, knowing that she needed to come up with a plan. Barbara and Dinah's lives depended on it. Harley was up to something very bad and that meant that the two of them would likely be in the blonde's crosshairs. Somehow Helena Kyle knew that she had to stop her former therapist.  
  
Some how. Some way.  
  
She swallowed hard, her throat dry and parched. Her stomach rolled but she managed not to vomit. She dropped to her side and rolled into a protective ball. Her dislocated shoulder screamed out at her, barking orders. Numbly she pushed herself up. Lowering her mouth down to her shirt, she bit down as she slammed her shoulder roughly against the wall. It slid back into the socket with a wet pop. Breathing hard and barely able to stay lucid, she collapsed back to the floor of the room.  
  
She needed to think. She needed to focus.  
  
She allowed her eyes to wander the room, searching desperately for an escape. After a few moments she gave up, the burning in her skull convincing her that she wouldn't get anywhere that way,  
  
Everything just hurt too much.  
  
Her vision blurred and her body seized. After the fit passed she pressed her eyelids tightly shut, praying for exhaustion to take her and allow her some respite. She'd never wanted to sleep so badly in all her life nor needed it so desperately.  
  
It never came. 


	14. Harleen's world

He was like a creature of the night, silently creeping through darkened hallways, his mind a whirl of emotions and thoughts. His brooding nature drew him to the thin line between good and evil and he sought to dance on it, to in fact laugh at that miniscule border between the sane and improper segments of his mind.  
  
He slid his head against the wall and then peaked around it. He lifted his eyebrow up, certainly in a superhero way manner. As if to show to his deep contemplation and his struggle with his inner self. The conflict boiled his blood but he couldn't escape it. Like it or hate it, his role as a great protector to the quaint and unsuspecting citizens of New Gotham was one that called to him through the ages.  
  
He was Memory Man, the dark and steady hero that lurked in the shadows.  
  
Wait, wait. Not that.  
  
Okay then.  
  
He was Membrane...  
  
Ok no. Best to think on that a bit.  
  
Gibson Kafka peered back around the corner, taking note of the slightly portly security guard that was leaning heavily against the wall. He had a nightstick in his hand and he was twirling it around, apparently trying to amuse himself.  
  
He was of course also standing directly in front of the door that Gibson needed to get in to. He frowned. He touched his ear. "Uh Oracle?"  
  
"I'm here Gibson," the redhead replied crisply though not unkindly. He could hear the omnipresent sound of typing in the background. God only knew what she was working on but with her, it was always something.  
  
"Um, we may have a problem."  
  
"Explain," she said, concern in her tone. He could tell that he had her attention.  
  
"There's a certain roadblock of definitely masculine proportions inhibitating my descent down into..."  
  
"Someone's blocking your way?" Barbara interrupted, more than a hint of amusement in her tone.  
  
"Uh, yes."  
  
"Create a distraction."  
  
Gibson chuckled. "Wish I'd thought of that," he muttered, glancing back at the guard. The man seemed almost like a mountain. So silent and large.  
  
"Gibson?" Barbara asked, once again sounding distracted. She heard him thank someone for something and then what sounded like Alfred's voice replying. He's probably brought her tea or coffee.  
  
"I'm here."  
  
"I'm going to send a signal down to one of the alarms on the second floor. Once it goes off all of the guards in the building will likely head that way. That should provide a few minutes of distractions but once he leaves, you need to move very quickly."  
  
"You're a God send," Gibson smiled.  
  
"Well I like the first word anyways," she laughed. "Okay, in five seconds."  
  
He nodded, more to himself than her. Obviously. Unless she had another surveillance mode he was unaware of, she couldn't see him. He counted to five and then right on cue, he heard an alarm sound. The guard started, blinking. He shook his head as if to clear away the cobwebs and then went lumbering towards the stairwell.  
  
As soon as the guard disappeared from view, Gibson began to inch around the wall. He kept his palms flat against the surface and started to shimmy against it.  
  
"Gibson, what the hell are you doing?" Barbara asked, laughing loudly.  
  
He swallowed hard. "Uh..."  
  
"Because what it sounds like..."  
  
"No," he said quickly. "I'm uh, going to the lab."  
  
"Okay, sure," she replied.  
  
He shook his head. Helena was right; Barbara just saw and knew too damn much. And considering what his meta power was, that was saying a lot.  
  
He slipped into the large lab and started to look around. Just as he had expected, it was all laid out in a very organized manner. He quickly located the silver box that had a white sticker on it that read 32-H.  
  
"I'm in," he told Barbara. He opened the box and reached in. "I have in visual range the target."  
  
"The evidence?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Cut an edge of it off. Make sure there is blood on it."  
  
He frowned, his lip curling. "Does my beautiful Huntress like doing this?"  
  
"She says she doesn't," Barbara replied. "But with Helena you can never quite be sure." There was a few key taps and then she continued. "The alarm has been disarmed. Hurry it up."  
  
"Done," he said as he finished cutting away one of the corners. He dropped the fabric into a small plastic bag and jammed it into his pocket.  
  
"Well that we weird," he heard a voice say from the doorway. He looked up sharply, eyes bulging. He saw the portly guard as well as another with sandy hair enter the room.  
  
"Eh, kids pulling a prank," the sandy haired security officer said. "Got any smokes?"  
  
"Nope," Portly answered. "Wife took me off."  
  
"And?" Sandy laughed. "Got any smokes?"  
  
Gibson bent down under the table, legs flat out on the floor. The two men were maybe two feet from him. He placed his palms against the cold tile and moved a few feet. He eyed the door a few meters ahead.  
  
"Are you caught?" Barbara asked, clearly worried.  
  
Gibson shook his head frantically. Then he frowned. She couldn't tell what he was doing.  
  
"Okay, you're not," Barbara answered for him.  
  
He scowled.  
  
"I can hear what you're doing," Barbara chuckled. "When you shake your head, the comm line wavers and...nevermind, it's a whole technical thing of which I'm sure you have no interest."  
  
He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yes I know you're not Helena," she said. "Okay, are you near the door."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Do that again."  
  
He did.  
  
"Okay, move slowly. Very slowly. I wouldn't even know how to bail you out or how to explain you."  
  
He made a face as if to say, "Figures."  
  
Luckily Sandy and Portly decided to cut him slack. Portly came around to the side of the table and offered his friend a pack of smokes. "Think I'll join you. Nothing going on here."  
  
"Is there ever?" Sandy replied as the two men headed towards the door.  
  
"It's New Gotham, bro. You just go with it," Portly muttered.  
  
As soon as they were out, Gibson let out a breath of caught air.  
  
"You okay?" Barbara asked. "Your heartbeat is racing?"  
  
He lifted an eyebrow. "My heartbeat?"  
  
"Uh, the Comm has a sensor in it that detects certain bodily shifts..."  
  
"You really are Big Brother..."  
  
"I prefer Big Sister and if you're about done there?"  
  
"I am. I'm on my way to the Clocktower. My Memory out."  
  
"Mr. Memory?"  
  
"Dr. Think??"  
  
"How about we'll work on it."  
  
"Fine," he grumbled. He stood up, took a deep breath and then attached himself to the wall.  
  
He was a creature of the night, haunted by memories of actions done with tragic consequences, traumatized by decisions made in the heat of battle. And yet still, somehow, fighting the good fight.  
  
Someone had to do it.  
  
New Gotham needed a hero.  
  
*****  
  
Helena moved restlessly on the floor of the room. She knew that she could have moved to the bed but the ground was cooler. She blinked, trying to clear the salt out of her eyes. She was soaked in her own sweat. Her body shook under the strength of her fever. Whatever poison was running through her blood, it had tainted her all the way through.  
  
She pressed her eyes tightly together, trying to block out the world around her. Her body ached and the violent tremors weren't helping. A few hours of sleep would probably do wonders but it refused to come.  
  
She tried to think but her mind refused to focus. Everything seemed so foggy and almost shaded in color. She tried to envision Barbara but even that appeared distorted in her minds' confused eye. Everything was so chaotic and very little made sense.  
  
She shifted slightly, hearing the chains rumble under her. She hissed in pain as her broken rib screamed out at her. When that thing had held her down, he had pressed the heel of his hand directly into her ribcage and surely he had cracked it at the very least. She moved her hands, testing the restraints. After a few moments of pulling on them, she finally gave up. They weren't going to break and she hadn't the energy to waste on that anyways.  
  
There had to be another way to escape.  
  
She turned to her left and was about to curl her head into her arm when she felt something slide heavily against her thigh. She blinked and looked down, momentarily frightened but also annoyed. "You again," she muttered. "Not much left for you to take."  
  
If Alushe heard her, he didn't respond. He slid his hands over her, effectively pining her to the ground. She tried to shove him away but he seemed ever stronger now, no doubt buoyed by her enhanced blood racing through his veins. He gazed at her with glassy eyes and a strange sort of predatory smile.  
  
"Get off me," she growled, placing her chained hands flat against his chest. She felt tight muscle under her fingers and for the slightest of moments she felt sympathy for him. For what he had once been.  
  
That all passed when he bent forward and pressed his mouth against her throat. He held it there, not yet biting but certainly drooling. She gasped under the contact and squirmed against him. He tightened his hold. He drew up from her and she saw that his face had changed.  
  
He was no longer the bizarre looking young man with odd features but rather a true demonic vampire with blood in his eyes. He seemed to be laughing at her.  
  
She blinked, confused. "What?"  
  
She tried to draw away again, panic racing through her blood. He just smiled at her and opened his mouth. She felt her stomach roll when she saw blood and what looked like human tissue dripping from now razor-sharp teeth.  
  
She shook her head, eyes wide. "No..."  
  
He just smiled wider and then he lunged at her, sinking his fangs deeply into the front of her throat. She screamed in agony as he began to rip and tear.  
  
So much for escape. No need for sleep now.  
  
She looked up at the ceiling and waited for the darkness to take her.  
  
After a few seconds, she realized that she was still staring at the ceiling, still waiting. She shook her head and tried to clear the cobwebs away. She looked down towards the ground and saw that she was alone.  
  
"Oh fuck me," she muttered. Then she laughed, nearly hysterical.  
  
Just a delusion. Just a good ol' everyday psychotic hallucination.  
  
Wonderful.  
  
She pushed herself to her feet, rubbing anxiously at the wound on her neck. Her energy was starting to return but her skin still felt fitfully hot. On the plus side, the hyper-sensitivity seemed to have died down a bit.  
  
She crossed over to the small bathroom. She chuckled when she saw that the mirror was actually a plastic reflective surface as opposed to glass. Harley really had thought of everything.  
  
She reached up to her neck and pulled the gauze pad away. She probed at the wound with her fingers and was relieved to discover that it wasn't deep so much as wide. It was however very wet. She could feel it seeping fluids.  
  
She bent over to the sink and turned the water on. She splashed it against her face and looked up. What she saw looking back was a pale guy with bleary blue eyes. She moved her head to the side to examine the wound. She hissed when she caught sight of how ugly and infected it looked.  
  
"Damn," she said, shaking her head.  
  
She reached across to the table next to the sink and picked up the first aide kit that Harley had left behind. Not surprisingly, the scissors had been removed from the box. She quickly poured the hydrogen peroxide onto a gauze pad and dabbed at the wound. After a few moments, satisfied, she took a dry pad and taped it to her neck.  
  
She stumbled back towards the bedroom and dropped to the ground. She pressed her cheek against the cold floor and sighed. It felt good, a spot of relief against her feverish skin.  
  
She again pressed her eyes closed.  
  
And again prayed for sleep.  
  
It again defied her. 


	15. searching for a trace

****  
  
He parked his jeep in the garage beneath the Clocktower and quickly exited his car. Cocking his head to the side, he walked out of the cement enclosure and moved around towards the front where the mail hatch was.  
  
It was the only external sign of any type of normal domestication. He had long ago wondered why Barbara didn't just utilize a Post Office box. Helena had never provided an answer.  
  
He stepped in front of the simple iron box and bent over. Something very bright and white had caught his attention as he had been driving in. What he saw pinned to the mailbox was an envelope. The words: Barbara Gordon were written on it.  
  
It was flat and probably contained little besides a single scrap of paper. The envelope was sealed so he felt around with his fingers. The size of its contents was odd. It wasn't a piece of paper. He lifted it up and held it up to the light.  
  
It was a picture,  
  
He frowned.  
  
Holding the envelope between his fingers, he went back into the garage. He hit a button on the wall and a thick steel door slid down. The outside of it looked like rock so if you didn't know where the garage was, you'd never find it on your own.  
  
He slipped into the elevator and punched the button that would bring him to the command center. Maybe ten seconds passed before the doors opened and he stepped into the temperature controlled warm. "Barbara," he greeted.  
  
She turned her chair and smiled at him. "Welcome back. Well done."  
  
He nodded, more pleased with himself than he cared to admit. He had never been given the option for field duty before and had never realized just how exhilarating it could be. He reached into his pocket and handed her the plastic bag.  
  
"Thank you," she said as she accepted it. She turned it over in her hand and looked at it. Then she looked back up at Gibson. "By the way, I wanted to apologize for being so short with you..."  
  
He waved her off and smiled, almost impishly. "Never fear great Oracle..."  
  
"Are you about to start on your hero monologue again?" she asked with a slight smile.  
  
"Yes, do you mind?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, not at all. Please continue."  
  
He opened his mouth and was about to continue when he remembered the envelope. "Oh, this was outside for you."  
  
She put the plastic bag down and took the white envelope from him. She gazed it curiously, noticing the absense of a postmark. Someone had dropped it off.  
  
She slid one finely manicured nail under the paper and released the glue. Flipping it open she spilled the contents out.  
  
Then she gasped.  
  
"Oh God."  
  
"What?" he said, alarmed by her shock. Barbara Gordon had seen an awful lot in her life and very little surprised her. He moved behind her to see what she was looking at.  
  
She was holding two Polaroid's in her hands, both of them full color photos. He placed one of his hands over hers to stop the shaking and then he removed the pictures.  
  
"Helena," he said simply, gazing down at the gory pictures.  
  
There was some bizarre creature attached to her throat and he was hurting her, apparently drinking or feeding from her. He didn't quite look like a vampire but he was definitely acting like he was one.  
  
And the look on Helena's face was horrible.  
  
Her eyes were half-closed and she looked completely lost.  
  
Oh God.  
  
God oh God no.  
  
He ran a finger over the photo and stared in horror at it, drawn into the horror on his best friends' tightly drawn face. Her mouth was spread in an expression of agony and he could only imagine.  
  
"Fuck!" Barbara cursed suddenly, drawing him from his thoughts. He blinked and looked up. She was staring straight ahead at the wall, anger etched into every line of her face. She picked up her mug and hurled it against the wall, shattering into several pieces. She cursed again. Then she looked up at him. "Sorry."  
  
He smiled sympathetically. "No," he said quietly. "Do you have another mug for me to throw?"  
  
She looked at him for a look moment, half confused and half stunned. And then she laughed. She shook her head. "No, I don't And now I don't have coffee either."  
  
He squeezed her shoulder. "I think he's got that covered."  
  
She looked up towards where Gibson was pointing and saw Alfred standing in the doorway. He offered her a knowing smile and she blushed.  
  
"More coffee?" he said.  
  
She made a face and then sheepishly said, "Yes."  
  
He bent over and took the pictures from Gibson. He looked at them passively but with disgust clear in his eyes. "Shall I toss these?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, I need to...we need to...there could be clues..."  
  
He gazed at the pictures again. "Ah yes. Forensics evidence perhaps." He placed them back on the table, face-down. "She sent you those for a reason."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Then I expect you'll not give her the pleasure?"  
  
"I have no intention of it," Barbara replied. She picked up the plastic bag with the scrap of cloth in it. "I need to run through the system, see who's blood this is." She turned to Gibson. "You're more than welcome to stick around."  
  
"Not going anywhere," he replied.  
  
She smiled at him warmly. Then she looked at Alfred. "And I were you..."  
  
"I've already put more coffee on," he finished. "Master Gibson, would you like some?"  
  
"Makes me jittery," Gibson replied, shaking his head. "Vodka?"  
  
Barbara snorted. "Now I know why you and Helena are such good friends; you're both drunks."  
  
Alfred chortled. "Truer words. I'll get you some water."  
  
"Good enough," Gibson answered. He stuck his hands in his pockets and followed Barbara towards the lab.  
  
As he walked he wondered why he had needed so desperately to see those pictures. Every fiber in him wished that he hadn't. He would never be able to forget it; never be able to get that image purged from his mind.  
  
It was his gift and his curse.  
  
One nice neat package.  
  
But at least she was still alive.  
  
And for now, that was everything.  
  
*****  
  
She could hear her own breathing, the air in her longs raspy and awkward. It echoed in her ears like thunder. Apparently the hypersensitivity had chosen to return. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling the pain in her muscles. The fatigue weighed everything down but she forced herself up anyways.  
  
She was dizzy and lacked balance but somehow she managed to get to her feet. She staggered a few inches and reached out for the wall, steadying herself with her hands. Her vision blurred and for a moment everything slid away from her. She reached for the darkness at the edges of her eyes but it quickly gave way to her eyesight again.  
  
She groaned in protest. All she wanted now was maybe twenty minutes of sleep. That would be a start. That would be something.  
  
She slid a hand against her ribs and shuddered. Her skin felt like fire to her touch as fever raced through her. She glanced up and blinked.  
  
She wasn't alone.  
  
She closed her eyes tight and then opened them again, trying to focus. Once she had, she rather wished she hadn't.  
  
"You," she muttered, gazing up at the dark figure that was standing over. He looked down at her passively, bright blue eyes gazing back at her. "What do you want?"  
  
He stepped towards her but remained silent. She moved back and away from him "Stay back," she hissed. "I don't want you and I sure as hell don't need you."  
  
He held a hand out to her. She slapped at it. She didn't want his help and she didn't want to play his games. This was the same man who has never exacted revenge for the murder of his so-called beloved and he had walked away from his protégé after she had been hurt because of him.  
  
He wasn't a man at all and he sure as hell wasn't a father.  
  
He stepped towards her again, invading her personal space. In the back of her mind she knew that he was just likely another delusion brought on by her raging fever but somehow she couldn't stop the anger that was building up in her.  
  
Irrationally and quite illogically, the next time he stepped towards her, she tried to hit him. She threw an uneven punch, which he ducked easily. She skittered forward and fell, landing on her side. She gasped in pain as her broken rib cried out at her. "Fuck," she gasped, as angry at herself as she was at him.  
  
She looked back up to where he had been and saw that just as she'd assumed, he was no longer there.  
  
Just a hallucination.  
  
But even in those he still disappeared.  
  
Yeah because that made a hell of a lot of sense. She wanted him there and she wanted him gone.  
  
Right. Perfectly logical of course.  
  
She slid back against the floor and buried her head into her hands, hearing the chains jungle loudly as she cradled her wounded body. Everything was turning inside out; she was losing it. She was going mad.  
  
She dropped to her side and curled into the fetal position, closing her eyes tightly. "Sleep," she mumbled to herself. "Five minutes..."  
  
*****  
  
"Harley?" Torch asked from behind her. "We're about ready. Senator Pierce is here to see you."  
  
"Good," Harley said, standing up. She glanced back at the grainy black and white video that was playing on the monitor. It showed a girl rocking herself on the cold floor of the room she had been given.  
  
She looked broken.  
  
She wasn't quite yet that.  
  
But getting there.  
  
Harley smiled. She touched Torch's arm. "Can I kill him? Senator Pierce? I don't really like him."  
  
Torch laughed. "How about you hear him out first. If you don't like what he says, rip his tongue out..."  
  
Her eyes lit up. "I love the way you think." She kissed his cheek. He slid his arm into hers and headed back towards the door.  
  
She glanced over her shoulder at the screen once more.  
  
Almost.  
  
Getting there.  
  
Just about time. 


	16. Frustration

She slid her chair around to the table opposite the counter along the west wall and ran her hands over the strange metal machine that took up the majority of the surface. Broken down into its simplest component, the device was a blood analyzer that could also evaluate other types of fluids and such. However that really was looking at it through a very narrow scope. It was far more complex than that and as such; its result definitively more accurate and telling.  
  
As Barbara Gordon slid the small piece of cloth into the metal tray of the device, she prayed with everything in her for an easy answer. She feared otherwise however. For some reason or another, Harley had wanted her to find the stained fabric and that could only mean bad things.  
  
"Barbara," Gibson mumbled from behind her. She blinked, having forgotten about the small young man who was such a dear friend to Helena. She turned and looked at him absently, with more than a hint of confusion in her green eyes. He seemed to understand quickly so for once he dispensed with the words and merely settled for pointing.  
  
She followed his gesture downwards and saw that the phone sitting on the table was blinking. She purposely kept the ringer on the cordless in the lab silent in order to assure complete quiet when she was working. Right now, a strange rumbling in her gut told her she rather wished there wasn't a phone in the room at all.  
  
"Right," she mumbled, reaching out for the black cordless phone. She paused just above it for a few moments and then finally, reluctantly grasped it. She punched a button on it and lifted it to her ear. "He..hello?"  
  
"Barbara Gordon," the voice on the other side practically purred. "Oh I was so hoping you'd answer. Just never know these days. People are so rude." She laughed at her own joke and then waited for Barbara to speak. After a few moments, the insane former therapist pushed ahead. "Did you like my present? You know I've been taking a class in photography. How to make the largest impact possible."  
  
Barbara reached her hand down and gripped the armrest of her chair. She pressed her nails into the leather pad, piercing the fabric. She grit her teeth hard, her muscles tensing and turning into hard controlled rock. Gibson saw the change in her demeanor and took a step towards her. She shook her head at him. "Harley," she growled, eyes turning into angry slits.  
  
"Surprise," the blonde laughed. 'It's me."  
  
Barbara swallowed hard and fought for control. She had gone up against more than her fair share of lunatics in her life but she had only ever wanted to kill two of them. The Joker. Harley. Both of them deserved the coldness of the afterlife but her hero's quest had refused her the ability to remove them from the planet.  
  
She rather wished it hadn't.  
  
"How is she?" Barbara demanded. She reached down to the table and picked up the two Polaroids that had been hand delivered to the Clocktower. She felt her stomach turn violently as she gazed down at the gory images.  
  
"Why don't I leave that up to your imagination," Harley laughed. "I'm sure you have many wonderful images running through that oversized brain of yours."  
  
"What...what is that thing?" Barbara asked, her voice dropping in pitch. She glanced up towards the doorway and saw that Dinah had appeared there. The girl was dressed in red and black flannel pants and one of Helena's gray Gotham Knights shirts. She looked groggy but otherwise awake.  
  
"Don't call him a thing," Harley protested, faking annoyance. She actually sounded slightly put out. Of course with her, everything was some part of an act. All a delusion towards a wicked end. "You'll offend him. He does have feelings too you know. And he and Helena, they're so very close now. He likes her so much but I don't think she's quite come around yet. She makes him feel alive but I still sense trust issues with her."  
  
"Harley," Barbara snapped. "Stop the games."  
  
The therapist ignored her and decided to push on. "You know, Helena and I have been working quite hard for the last few days. Talk therapy of course. You'll be quite pleased to know that she's actively attacking her anger management issues." She sighed dramatically, as if disappointed. "I'm afraid we're still encountering some very serious behavioral issues however."  
  
Dinah approached Barbara from behind and took the pictures from her. Almost immediately the color drained away from her cheeks, making her look very pale and young. She glanced at Gibson who answered her with a rather sickly half-smile.  
  
Barbara looked at the two of them and closed her eyes. After a moment she whispered, "Please, stop this. Please."  
  
Harley laughed. "I think I just heard the great Barbara Gordon beg. Did you beg Barbara Gordon?"  
  
Barbara swallowed hard. She dug her nails deeper into the leather of the chair. Reaching out with her hand she punched the button on the base station that turned it into a speakerphone. She set the handset down and pressed her other hand into the armrest. "Yes," she finally admitted, her voice little more than a strained gasp. "Yes."  
  
"Oh this is wonderful. I knew you had that whole rah rah family thing going but really you've exceeded my wildest expectations."  
  
"Harley, what is it exactly that you want from me?" Barbara asked, exhaustion in her tone.  
  
"Oh I want her," Harley assured her. "But right now I want you begging me for her life. Tell me what you'll do to keep her alive. Tell me, oh tell me."  
  
"You know I'll do anything," Barbara replied between tightly clenched teeth.  
  
"Will you trade your life for hers?"  
  
"Do you need to even ask?"  
  
"No, I didn't think so," Harley laughed.  
  
Barbara sighed. She was quickly growing weary of the verbal spat and she wanted to move on to something more constructive. "These games are unnecessary. Tell me what you want."  
  
"Always in control aren't you Barbara Gordon? Well maybe when we're done with Helena, we can work on these issues with you. I'd be happy to pencil you in."  
  
"Another time perhaps," Barbara said dryly. She reached back and took the pictures away from Dinah. "Enough," she mouthed silently, her brow furrowing in concern. The look in both Dinah and Gibson's eyes horrified her.  
  
"Very well," Harley replied. "Well if you would like to help and I know you'd like to, I have some very serious work to do. I killed Senator Pierce this evening. He annoyed me. I doubt that will be the last person I'll kill and I'd appreciate you staying out of it. And if you'd be so kind, keep those lovely stupid cops away from me as well."  
  
"I'm a crime fighter not a criminal, Harley. I don't control the cops and I can't protect you."  
  
"You mean you won't."  
  
"I mean I can't," Barbara answered softly. "You removed my contact with the police department."  
  
"Oh you mean the good Detective?" Harley giggled. "Yes that was fun. Quite bloody too. I'm sure Helena enjoyed the show."  
  
Barbara swore beneath her breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. She had been afraid that Harley had forced Helena to witness Reese's stabbing and now she had confirmation. It was like goddamn déjà vu.  
  
"I heard that," Harley sang out. "As I've told Helena repeatedly, I don't like that word. I'll let it pass just this once though. After all, you didn't know the rules. "She paused for effect. "Remember that I'm the one in charge now Barbara Gordon. I'm the one who decides how long she continues to breathe. You want to see her alive, well I think you'll cooperate. Now play nice and you may see her again. How she is when you do, that'll depend on you."  
  
And with that she hung up the phone. Barbara let the line buzz idly for a few seconds before she punched it closed with her thumb. After a long moment she looked up at Gibson and Dinah. "You two both could use some sleep."  
  
Before either of them could answer a loud beep sounded in the room, alerting them back to Barbara's strange machine. She spun her chair towards it. There was a long piece of paper there filled with numbers and letters, all of it coming together to form some string of data that presumably only Barbara could understand.  
  
"What is that?" Dinah asked.  
  
"It's something that was found in Reese's shirt. It's a blood sample," Barbara muttered.  
  
"How did you get it?"  
  
"Gibson went in for it."  
  
"You sent Gibson in for field work over me?"  
  
Both Barbara and Gibson glanced at Dinah's crutches. Finally the redhead replied, "You were in no condition. I needed stealthy."  
  
"It's Helena," Dinah insisted. "I would have found a way."  
  
"Dinah please...now is not the time. We got the sample. Does it really matter who or how?"  
  
"No," Dinah said, shaking her head. "I just feel so useless." "I couldn't risk you like that," Barbara insisted. "Gibson was the best choice and he came through." She smiled up at the boy who was wisely staying silent, instead choosing to watch the conversation and catalogue it away in his brain for later evaluation.  
  
"Risk?" Dinah asked, voice trembling. "Helena could be dead, I don't really care about the risks to me."  
  
"I know," Barbara replied. She sighed. "She's not dead. Harley's not done with her yet. She's still playing whatever cracked game this is."  
  
Dinah nodded slowly, angry with herself for the pain she could see in her mentor's green eyes. She hadn't meant to make it worse but in the condition she was in, she found that she lacked control. The frustration was nearly overwhelming in magnitude. "I'm sorry...I just..."  
  
"I know," Barbara said again, reaching up to grasp Dinah's hand. "Sit."  
  
Dinah did as she was told, dropping into the chair opposite Barbara. She wondered idly why Barbara's touch hadn't allowed her to see into the redheads mind but quickly dismissed it; Barbara was well trained in mental control and if she didn't want someone poking around in her skull, well then they were pretty much creeked.  
  
"Dinah, this is worse than you can imagine. Harley has done something to Helena." She pointed at the pictures on the desk. "That thing has done something to her. It's infected her with some kind of disease."  
  
"What's it doing to her?" Gibson asked, a slight tremor in his voice. He reached across and picked up the pictures. Without looking, he turned them over. Which considering his lock-box memory was really quite a futile thing to do.  
  
"It's damaging her brain's frontal cortex. Look, a human brain is really a very fragile thing. It relies on sleep to function effectively. Insufficient rest adversely affects the frontal cortex's ability to control speech, access memory, and solve problems. Due to whatever this is, she might find sleep nearly impossible to come by and as such....anyway the symptoms of long-term sleep deprivation are pretty severe..."  
  
"Exhaustion, fatigue, hallucinations, inability to control emotion and reason, lack of physical strength," Gibson mumbled, almost as if he were reading from a textbook.  
  
"Oh God," Dinah muttered.  
  
"It gets worse," Barbara said softly.  
  
"How can it get worse?" Dinah demanded, panic in her pale blue eyes.  
  
Barbara held up a hand as if to silent her young protégé. "I've also found signs of significant damage to her red cells. Especially the meta ones. "  
  
"So she won't be able to heal herself," Gibson said plainly.  
  
Barbara nodded. "Even the smallest cut might refuse to start healing."  
  
"Barbara, we have to find her," Dinah stammered, standing up. She grabbed at her wooden crutches and leaned heavily against it.  
  
"Don't you think I'm trying?" Barbara replied with a dry self-depreciating laugh. She looked up at the blonde and smiled slightly. "We will find her. I promise you that. For right now though, we all just need to be calm..."  
  
"Calm?"  
  
"Please," Barbara begged. "Please."  
  
Dinah nodded slowly, as if to say she would do her best. After a few moments she looked up, her eyes suddenly wide and alert. "Reese," she gushed out, excitement clear in her tone.  
  
"Still in a coma," Barbara replied, shaking her head in confusion. "I don't..."  
  
"I could try going into his mind. He might know where Harley..."  
  
"No," Barbara said quickly, perhaps a bit too harshly. "No, forget about it."  
  
"Barbara..."  
  
"You could get trapped in his mind," Gibson said quietly. "If he were to die while you were in there..."  
  
"We're not taking that chance," the redhead snapped. "This discussion is over."  
  
"Bar..."  
  
"Over, Dinah," Barbara replied. She glanced back at the readout. "Look there's nothing else you can do tonight. Go to bed, both of you. Please."  
  
"You need sleep as well," Gibson insisted.  
  
She shook her head. "I want to look this over." She lifted the sheet of paper up. "Want to make sure I didn't miss anything."  
  
Gibson nodded. "I'm gonna sleep up on the couch upstairs."  
  
"Sure," Barbara said, her head already bent back over the readout.  
  
Dinah watched her mentor for a few long moments, her heart breaking at the sight of the woman staring with so much focus at the paper. Like it held all the answers.  
  
She smiled slightly.  
  
Some risks were necessary.  
  
"Night Barbara," she said.  
  
The woman who called herself Oracle looked up and allowed a brief smile, thankful that the young girl had decided not to fight her any further. With Helena's life already in great peril, she wasn't about to risk Dinah as well.  
  
Under any circumstances.  
  
"Sleep well," she said to the blonde; just before she dropped her head back down.  
  
Dinah watched Barbara for a few more moments, her mouth settling into a thin firm line of determination.  
  
It was a risk worth taking and in the end, it was her risk.  
  
And that was all that was to it.  
  
***** 


	17. loosing the game

Helena Kyle was in hell. She had always assumed that the deep nasty afterlife would be something very hot and suffocating, like what one would assume the inside of a furnace to be like. Apparently she was wrong and there were multiples paths to the underworld, none of them terribly pleasant.  
  
The darkness surrounded her in thick velvet sheets, coating her but not consuming her. She had shattered the light bulb over her head and now her fist swelled under the severe lacerations that she had suffered. No matter, the black was certainly welcomed. She cradled herself against the far wall of the room, clutching her side and pressing herself up against the cool surface. Her skin was feverish and the icy tile provided at least some degree of relief.  
  
She blinked when she heard footsteps approaching. She wrenched her eyes open and looked towards the door of the room. It slid open with a loud aching creek revealing Harley in all of her evil glory. She smiled in at her prey, eyes dancing mischievously. "I see you prefer the darkness, Helena. I knew you were my kind of girl."  
  
Helena lifted her head slowly and gazed back at Harley under sheets of unruly and uncombed brown hair. She wasn't really in the mood to listen to another long-winded rant from the psychopath that was holding her captive. She tried to focus her mind but there was little doubt that the fever ravaging her damaged body as well as the sleep deprivation were taking their toll on both her physical and mental well being.  
  
"I think it's time for another session," Harley cooed as she slipped into the room. She sat on the bed and crossed her legs, attempting to look very scholarly and yet still managing to come off almost perverse.  
  
Helena didn't reply. She dropped her head back down and pressed her eyes closed. She wanted to lash out at the woman but lacked the strength to put up any kind of real fight.  
  
And they both knew it.  
  
She shivered under the iron grasp of the fever. It was getting worse. Whatever the creature had done to her, he had made her ever sicker than the physical abuse alone had done.  
  
"Barbara Gordon is worried about you," Harley assured her. "Did you know that she begged me for your life? It was wonderful to hear. She is quite an amazing woman. You betrayed her and still she loves you. That'd be beautiful if it wasn't so pathetic. She said she'd do anything for you. I wonder what that means."  
  
Helena growled and glared up at Harley, the predator inside of her running through a list of ways to attack her enemy.  
  
Harley smiled, recognizing the violent impulses racing through Helena's blood. She knew them well. The only difference was that she answered their call while the young brunette still denied them.  
  
Harley decided to press on, to see if she could force Helena's hand. "When Wade died a part of her died as well, isn't that true, Helena?" Harley laughed. "When she found out about your betrayal, oh I would have loved to have seen her face, to know what she was thinking of you in those moments."  
  
Helena blinked, sadness overwhelming her. She could still remember the horrified and devastated expression that had overcome Barbara when she had realized what her young protégé had done. The redhead could deny it until the day she died but the truth of the matter was, in those first few seconds, there had to have been hatred.  
  
Had to have been.  
  
"How did you feel when I killed the good Detective Reese? When you heard him fall? When you heard me pierce his heart with a knife just as I did Wade? Did you feel like it was your penance? Like you deserved it?" She shook her head. "Now imagine what it must have been like to be Barbara and know that Wade was her only chance for love."  
  
Helena squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to hear anymore. It didn't change things however. Harley was right in so many ways. After Wade had died, Barbara had retreated inside of herself, throwing herself forcefully into the rebuilding of the Delphi computer system. Helena had tried on several occasions to start dialogue with her mentor but had always given in quickly, unwilling to cause her oldest friend more unwarranted pain.  
  
Pain that she was uniquely responsible for as far as she was concerned.  
  
"Are you angry with me Helena?" Harley asked in mock surprise. "I didn't force you to talk to me in my office that morning. You did it all so very willingly. You wanted it all out in the open. Everything. It made you feel free." She reached across and touched Helena's cheek. The girl jerked her head away from her, causing her to smile at Helena's continued fight. "It's better this way and you know it. You've already betrayed her once. You'll do it again. It's inevitable. Better that you're here and far away from her."  
  
Helena buried her head between her hands and stared down into her palms. Guilt wracked her but she refused to let Harley see her get any weaker. She glared up at her captor. "You killed him," she hissed. "Not me." Sorry I was "You don't believe that," Harley told her, a wide smile on her face. "You believe you're the one who killed him and you are."  
  
Helena felt her heart sink. Harley was right; she had betrayed Barbara. She had never meant to hurt her mentor so deeply and yet she had. And would of course, inevitably do it again.  
  
"Do you know that she's willing to trade her life for yours?" Harley asked casually, glancing down at her nails. She frowned when she noticed that one of them looked slightly cracked. That would have to be dealt with when she had a few spare moments. Assuming of course that there were any. With all the maiming and murdering, personal time was certainly low on the list. A true pity really.  
  
The brunette looked up sharply, anger stark in slate blue eyes. Fury burned through her blood.  
  
"Maybe I'll accept the offer," Harley continued, turning her hand over to examine the nail closer. She wondered when she had broken it and then tried to recall where she had put her file.  
  
Helena lunged forward. She threw herself across the room and slammed her body into Harley's, catching the former therapist off-guard and knocking her down to her butt with a hard thud. Pulling her chained fists together, she pulled back and cracked them against Harley's jaw. Her eyes dilated as anger overtook her senses. She pressed her palms around Harley's throat and shoved down.  
  
Harley laughed. "Now there's my girl. Let it out baby, let it all out. Let it take you." Blood dripped down from her torn lip but she seemed unconcerned about the minor injury.  
  
From behind her she felt Torch approach so she kicked out with her chained legs, knocking him down to his knees. He grunted in anger and pain but quickly found his footing. Harley waved him off.  
  
""I'll kill you before I let you hurt her again," Helena growled, her face contorting. She looked like an animal recently let out of a cage. A beautiful stunning and wicked predator with no control.  
  
"Do it Helena," Harley pressed. "Kill me. Cross that line. Let go. No one can stop you now. Join me on this side. Do it. You know you want to."  
  
Helena staggered back, releasing her vice like grip. She dropped to the ground, defeated. She'd never really had a chance of escape because of the chains that held her but it had occurred to her to end the life of her tormentor. Now that too was gone.  
  
"I won't be like you," Helena stammered, eyes finding the floor of the room.  
  
"You already are," Harley assured her, accepting a hand up from Torch. She was reaching down towards the bed when she heard a loud growl. She blinked and looked up, caught between anger and confusion when she saw Alushe standing vacantly in the doorway, eyes locked on Helena.  
  
Before she could speak the creature was across the room and throwing himself atop of the already shaky brunette. The girl cried out in shock as the diseased boy tackled her and tried to bury his face into neck. She put her palms out and tried to shove him away but he was far too strong and determined for her. He could smell the blood of her previous wound and it was driving him nearly insane with need.  
  
'Alushe no!" Harley cried out, cracking the hard stick across his back. He howled in pain and retreated quickly though reluctantly. "Not now," she hissed at her demented creation.  
  
Alushe trembled under her gaze, confused and tormented. He so desperately needed more of the girl. She was strong and powerful and her blood made him feel almost alive again.  
  
"Not yet," Harley finished, her tone growing softer. "I promise that eventually she'll be yours but not yet, There are things to be done." She gazed down at Helena who was staring back at her with defiant rage in her blue eyes. Anger suddenly ripped through the little blonde and she kicked out hard, planting her heel into the middle of Helena's gut.  
  
The brunette cried out and fell back, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She fought them back and stared up at Harley, still defiant. "Fuck you," she hissed.  
  
Harley kicked her again. "Watch your mouth, Helena. You're alive by my grace alone. It's not wise to push it. Piss me off and I'll let him rip your throat out. I can't imagine a worse death. She smiled again. "Can you?"  
  
Helena blinked. No, she really couldn't.  
  
Harley sensed that she had won the battle so she turned to leave. She glanced back once and smiled. "We made some progress today, Helena. We had a good day."  
  
And with that she turned and exited the room, Alushe and Torch trailing just inches behind her. The door slammed shut, sealing Helena off and encasing her in darkness.  
  
She gripped her side and rolled over so that she was in the fetal position. The chains clinked, echoing in her brain. She ignored the sound, having grown moderately used to it.  
  
Her vision blurred as her mind spun like a diseased hard drive, sputtering and begging for just a few more seconds of life. Everything was chaos and confusion and she wondered just what she was losing. Fight? Battle? War?  
  
Her life? Her sanity?  
  
Yeah, definitely the war then.  
  
Definitely that.  
  
*****  
  
Dinah Redmond glanced down at the watch on her left wrist. It was just a few minutes after noon and the hospital was buzzing with activity. Doctors and nurses pushed about, trying to stay focused on their daily activities.  
  
She made her way quickly to the receptionists' desk and smiled up brightly at the elderly nurse standing there. The woman with brown curls and a nametag that read Donna glanced up at her. "Can I help you sweetie?"  
  
"I'm here to see my uncle," Dinah said softly, adjusting herself on her crutches. "His name is Detective Reese."  
  
Donna lifted an eyebrow. "Your uncle? I don't mean to be indelicate honey but..."  
  
"On his father's side," Dinah said quickly. "He's half white." She moved anxiously, desperate to move things along. Bad enough that she had lied to Barbara and Gibson about where she was going but even worse what she was planning to do. Her mentor was going to be furious.  
  
Oh well. Risks and all of that. Family and such.  
  
"Oh," the woman replied. Then she shook her head. "I'm afraid right now..."  
  
"Go ahead and let her see him," a voice said from behind her. Dinah turned and smiled slightly.  
  
"McNally?"  
  
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. More or less." She could see cuts and bruises on his face and he definitely looked like he had been worked over. He glanced at the nurse. "She's family."  
  
Donna smiled. "Go ahead and take her back then."  
  
Dinah pressed the crutches into armpits and followed McNally down the hallway. "We thought maybe...what happened to Reese...we thought...."  
  
McNally shook his head. "I don't know what happened to me to be honest. One moment he and I are looking for this escaped murderer and the next I'm waking up in a ditch. Apparently they left me for dead." He laughed and pointed at his stomach. "They'll have to try harder. Shot, stabbed, blown up. I'm doing just fine."  
  
She snorted. "I see that." She stopped in front of the private room with the number 2343. "What about him?"  
  
McNally shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "They don't think...look I've known Jesse a very long time...he'll pull through this." And with that he turned and walked away, limping terribly as he moved. She noticed that he had a large white cast on his right arm and that he was still wearing a hospital bracelet. That meant that he was still a patient.  
  
Harley had really done some damage.  
  
She had to be stopped.  
  
Had to be.  
  
She opened the door to the room and stepped in, hearing the steady if not maddening beeping of all of the machines. She approached the bed in the middle of the room hesitantly, eyes locked on the form on the mattress.  
  
He looked terrible; his chest wrapped heavily in tape and white gauze. He wasn't breathing on his own, instead the machines pumped oxygen into his lungs. His color was awful. He looked so very close to death.  
  
She paused for a beat, considering Barbara and Gibson's warning. She knew the risks. If Reese died with her inside, she'd go as well. It was that simple.  
  
It was worth it. She laid her clutches against the wall and narrowed her eyes, gazing at him evenly.  
  
She stepped forward and touched his forehead. "Help me," she whispered.  
  
Almost immediately the images flooded her brain, shaking her all the way down to her toes. She stay connected and took in as much as she could, as much as she dared. She tried not to think about what she was seeing, fearing that if she hesitated at all, she might not get out.  
  
After a few moments she staggered back and dropped to the floor next to his bed. She shook under the violence of the images assaulting her brain. She pressed her palms flat against her head to try to silence the sounds. She clenched her eyelids tightly together and bit down on her lip.  
  
Finally, unsteadily, she found her feet again. She bent over Reese and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Thank you Jesse," she whispered. "Now come back to us."  
  
She turned away from him and grabbed at the crutches. She yanked them under her and made her away to the door of the room. Once outside she leaned back against the wall of the hallway.  
  
"Dinah?" McNally asked, coming to her side. She gazed up at him through bleary and blurring eyes. She blinked.  
  
"Mmm?" she mumbled, watching as the darkness closed in around her.  
  
"Are you okay?" he demanded, his face contorting as her vision blurred. He touched her arm.  
  
"No," she stammered. "I think I'm gonna lie down."  
  
And then, just like that, she did.  
  
She collapsed heavily to the floor, colliding against the burly cop and dropping him down with her. He grunted at the sudden impact but managed to keep her from slamming her skull against the cold tile. He looked up, alarm in his eyes and exhaustion in his tone. "Help me, someone help me."  
  
* * * 


	18. Praying for the prey

She sat up unsteadily in the bed, resting her head against the heel and palm of her left hand. She tried to smile but it came out as a pained grimace. "Sorry," she said feebly. "I didn't have a choice."  
  
Barbara Gordon spun her chair hard, emerald green eyes flashing with anger. "You always have a choice. This was simply the wrong one."  
  
"Barbara, it's not that easy," Dinah said defiantly as she glanced around the hospital room. She wasn't altogether certain how she'd gotten there but the fact remained that she was lying in a bed hooked to several beeping machines and her mentor was standing above her, looking pissed as all living hell.  
  
"Dinah, I warned you about the risks..." Barbara started, her hands clenched into hard fists. She fought valiantly for control over her emotions but found it to be a battle she had no chance of winning. Helena was hurt and possibly in very grave danger and now her other charge had intentionally placed herself in the line of fire. It was enough to make anyone angry enough to spit nails.  
  
"Yes you did," Dinah admitted. "But it's Helena. She'd do it for me. You'd do it for me." She dropped her head and lowered her voice. "You said we were family. Family takes chances for each other."  
  
Barbara smirked and shook her head. "Uh huh, nice try. You're not getting off that easy. I respect your desire to help Helena in every way possibly but not at the risk of your own life. That's simply an unacceptable risk."  
  
Dinah smiled, suddenly very solemn. "No it's not." She glanced down at her hands. "When Harley killed Wade, Helena was willing to do anything to win back your trust..."  
  
"She didn't need to. It wasn't her fault."  
  
"Doesn't matter. She'd do anything for you. It's what you've both taught me. Can't un-teach that Barbara. No matter how much you'd like to."  
  
Barbara reached out and took her hand. She squeezed it. "You're still in very serious trouble," she promised the blonde. "But I suppose we'll deal with that later. Did you find out anything useful?"  
  
Dinah smiled. "Of course."  
  
"Well hold off on that," Barbara sighed. "They're finishing up your papers. I want to get you home and into bed."  
  
"I don't need..."  
  
"Stop and think for a moment Dinah," Barbara cautioned. "Just how smart do you think it is to fight me right now?"  
  
Dinah swallowed hard. "Right."  
  
*****  
  
Helena turned, her blue eyes wide with pain. She looked at the wall and watched as it rippled. She slid her body close to it and ran her fingers across the surface, wondering how it could be moving.  
  
"Helena," she heard a voice call out.  
  
She spun quickly, the chains rattling. She tilted her head. "Cam?" She blinked. Couldn't be. She had watched her obsessive suitor get turned into a pile of dust by a chemical explosion.  
  
And yet somehow he was standing in front of her looking like nothing at all had happened.  
  
He bent over her and ran a hand over her face. She jerked away. He smiled. "I've got you now," he said with a wry smile.  
  
"Don't think so," another voice said. She turned to see Slick walking towards her. Well he was actually more sauntering than walking but just the same, he was moving in her direction. "She's mine." He put out his hand and sent a spray of concentrated water in her direction. It splashed across her cheeks, starting her into awareness. They were still there.  
  
Bad. Very bad.  
  
"You'll have to get through me," another voice said. "Huntress and I have business," Morton laughed as he approached. He reached out and slugged her across the jaw, dropping her flat on her back. "Lots of business."  
  
"I'd agree," the Specialist murmured from behind her. She spun away from him but he caught her throw in a vice like grip. He picked her up and tossed her. She cried out as the cold floor slapped against her cheek.  
  
She looked up and saw all of the four of the men standing above her. She blinked, realizing that she had been party to each of their eventual deaths. They wanted revenge now. She wasn't sure how they were achieving it but somehow they were.  
  
Cam reached down and touched her, his fingers feeling like cracked sandpaper. He roughly grazed her cheek. "We could have been happy."  
  
She shook her head. It had to be an illusion. Had to be.  
  
The Specialist reached out and kicked her, spinning her several feet in the air. She gasped, expecting pain. When none came she opened her eyes up and looked around.  
  
Alone. Again.  
  
A delusion.  
  
Right.  
  
Hardly the first.  
  
Not likely the last.  
  
She scratched at her palms, nervous energy exploding through her veins. After a few moments she pushed herself to her feet.  
  
She walked towards the bed and sat on it, feeling it droop a little under her weight. Not much though. She couldn't recall the last time she had eaten. She didn't really care to anyways. Her stomach was little more than a nervous knot.  
  
She heard the door open before she saw the blonde enter the room.  
  
"Harley," she muttered, looking up at her captor. Her tormentor was dressed in a power-suit.  
  
The woman lit up when she caught sight of her prey. "You're up," she cooed. "And on your feet." She smiled. "That's much better than when you're curled up in a ball looking like a coward."  
  
"I'm a lot of things," Helena snapped back, taking a predatory step towards Harley. "I'm no coward."  
  
"Oh come now, Helena, do you really think you could take me right now?" She tilted her head. "Do you have double-vision? Can you stand up straight? Are you really sure I'm actually here?"  
  
Helena stopped. She clenched her fists. She stared back at the woman who just watched her impassively. Finally her shoulders dropped. Energy dripped away from her, leaving her exhausted both mentally and physically.  
  
"That's what I thought Helena. Even you know that you don't have much strength right now. Certainly not enough to waste on trying to beat up illusions."  
  
"Fuck you," Helena snapped, sitting on the ground. She put her head into her hands and wound her fingers through her messy brown mane. She wasn't sure how long she'd been in captivity but her hair was screaming for conditioner.  
  
Probably the least of her worries.  
  
"Now now Helena, a little manners goes a long way," Harley scolded. She bent over and peered down at Helena. "How does it feel to be going insane?"  
  
"You tell me." Helena replied dryly. "Figure you've been there awhile."  
  
Harley grinned. "I'm not sure I like the term insane. People think of insane as not being able to think clearly. I'm quite clear Helena. I know exactly what I'm doing and what I want."  
  
"You want me," Helena drawled. "I know. Still not interested. Don't much care for blondes myself."  
  
"Oh I am impressed. I would have thought you for broken by now but there's that spark. That rebellion. It's a wonderful thing to see."  
  
"Glad you like it."  
  
Harley grinned but it was suddenly very cold. "I don't." And with that she kicked out, connecting solidly with Helena's mid-section. The girl grunted but didn't fall. "And Helena my dear, you're not the only think I want. I want this whole town on their knees in front of me."  
  
"How ambitious," the brunette drawled.  
  
Harley kicked out again, connecting with Helena's jaw. The girl spun back and then spat out blood.  
  
"Not much more to break," Helena said with a dry sardonic laugh. She was wearing an odd smile on her bruised face.  
  
Harley laughed. "Oh Helena, how naïve you are." She reached down and grabbed Helena by the hair, yanking the girl backwards. "There's so much more to break. Trust me."  
  
*****  
  
He blinked and opened his eyes. Everything in front of him was hazy and uneven. The gauze pads over his eyes limited his field of vision. Reaching up he pulled them away. He blinked, clearing the sleep away.  
  
"Hello," he whispered, his voice catching violently. There was some kind of tube lodged in his throat and it was blocking his ability to speak. He settled for smacking his hand against the wall of the room and then touching the call button on the arm of the bed.  
  
Several moments passed before he heard footsteps approaching. His body tensed up, muscles constricting tightly with anticipation.  
  
"Hey ol' boy," a voice said from the doorway. He turned his body slightly and smiled.  
  
"McNally," Jesse Reese rasped out. He smiled up at his large partner. He noticed immediately that the big cop was sporting some fairly ugly bruises on his face.  
  
"Don't talk," McNally instructed. "I'll get someone to pull that thing out of your throat." He stepped back out into the hallway.  
  
Reese glanced around the hospital room and saw that it was covered in flowers. That meant that his mom had been by. The woman was a florists' wet dream. He wondered idly how he'd gotten hurt but found quickly that his mind was far too muddled to make sense of anything.  
  
The last thing he could really remember was going out with McNally to search for Harley who had escaped for Arkham. He could recall being worried and concerned for his friends back at the Clocktower. Harley had taken Barbara's lover from her and done it by manipulating Helena. The cracks in the foundation of the team had been severe but they had recovered.  
  
At least somewhat.  
  
"Hold still Detective," the nurse said as she removed the tube.  
  
"Cough." He did as he was told, feeling his throat spasm a bit.  
  
"Feel better?" McNally asked with a grin.  
  
"Yes," Reese muttered. "I think." He lifted his hand up and touched his throat. "What the..."  
  
"Hell if I know. Don't have a clue what happened to you. Or me. I ended up ended in a ditch. You were in a dumpster." He cocked his head. "Always knew you had a thing for the dirty side of town."  
  
"Nice," Reese muttered. He reached down and looked at his chest. "Am I hurt?"  
  
McNally snorted. "Up until two hours ago I pretty much assumed you were dead. You were deep in a coma and they said you weren't going to wake up."  
  
"Oh, that's pleasant," Reese muttered. He slid a hand under the hospital gown and ran his fingers over the bandages on his chest. "Ouch."  
  
"You took a knife right to the ribcage. Broke a few."  
  
"I was right the first time. Ouch." He rubbed at his chest and then looked up. "I feel okay."  
  
"Can't imagine how. I'm not lying here Reese, an hour ago you were as good as dead."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"Maybe that little blonde friend of Helena's has some magic in her pocket," McNally said with a shake of his head.  
  
"Blonde friend? Dinah?" Reese asked, his brow furrowing. "Was Helena here?"  
  
"You know, I haven't seen her. You two didn't have a fight last I recall. Or did I miss something?" He quirked his lip. "She responsible for you being in the dumpster? You insult her boots?  
  
Reese shook his head. "No. Funny. I know better." He frowned. "I don't know. Things tend to come up with her."  
  
"Too important than to be by your side...."  
  
"So how did I end up in a dumpster?" Reese asked suddenly.  
  
McNally shrugged. "I don't know."  
  
"I do," he replied softly. "Harley."  
  
*****  
  
Gibson glanced up at Barbara when she entered the command center with Dinah. The blonde was walking slowly, almost unsteadily. Her gait was noticeably awkward thanks to the heavy crutches. "The hospital just called," he said quietly.  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow but her eyes betrayed her fear. "Did he? Did Reese..."  
  
"No, he's awake," Gibson said quickly, needing to stop the stark horror he could see in both of their eyes. Almost immediately calm settled over them. Dinah seated herself opposite Barbara and glanced up at the working computers.  
  
"Awake?" she asked. "They said he was going to die...."  
  
"The doctor I spoke to seemed as alarmed as you Miss Dinah," Alfred said as he entered the room. "He said that your visit must have been quite helpful."  
  
"I don't understand," Dinah said, looking up at Barbara.  
  
Barbara frowned. "Well I guess it's possible that when you went into his mind to get the information, you also pulled him up and out of his coma."  
  
"That's impressive," Gibson murmured. Then he blinked. "You went into his mind? You could have...."  
  
"Not you too. I just spent the last hour getting yelled at."  
  
"I didn't yell," Barbara corrected. "I was parental."  
  
"Grounding me until I'm thirty is not parental, it's nazistic."  
  
"Oh you're exaggerating." Barbara replied. "I said twenty-eight."  
  
Dinah tilted her head and looked at Gibson. "See."  
  
"I get your point."  
  
"You're on my side Gibson," Barbara said pointedly. Then she looked at Dinah. "Okay, now it's your turn to talk." She looked at Gibson and Alfred. "I wanted to wait until we got back here before I had her tell her us what she found out. Didn't want to miss anything."  
  
"Okay wherever this place was, Reese didn't know it very well. He had to be given special instructions on how to get there. It's somewhere in the Red Dust. Is that an actual place?" She looked up at Gibson and Barbara. "I don't know what it means."  
  
"I do," Gibson said quietly. "The Red Dust is a bomb shelter over in Old Gotham. When I was in high school we used to go there to drink and skip school."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. "Oh really."  
  
He made a face. "You can't tell her I said that."  
  
Dinah snorted. "So Harley has Helena in some underground facility?"  
  
"Sounds like," Barbara said. She shook her head. "Do you remember anything else?"  
  
"Yeah. Harley had Helena blindfolded. She was pretty beat up."  
  
"Wonderful," Barbara sighed. "Okay, there's nothing we can do about this tonight. I want everyone to turn in. I'm going to do some research, see what I can find out about this place. Gibson, stick around, tell me what you know about this place."  
  
Gibson nodded. "Sure." He paused. "You still can't tell her I told you. She'll skin me alive." He looked down at his hands. "I hope."  
  
Barbara smiled and touched his shoulder. "We will find her. I promise. Whatever it takes."  
  
*****  
  
"Back so soon," Helena slurred, glancing up from the floor of the room. She watched the dark shadows dance around the woman's head, performing to an unheard but almost macabre beat.  
  
"I didn't want to leave with us on such bad terms."  
  
"Yeah don't worry about that," Helena drawled. "We're peachy."  
  
"You don't look so good Helena," Harley said with more than a hint of amusement. "Not having a good day are we?" She ran her fingers through Helena's mane. "Besides having an extremely bad hair day."  
  
"Yeah well, not fond of your cut either. Pretty passé," Helena muttered.  
  
"Oh how nice," Harley grinned. "Banter between friends."  
  
Helena glanced up and past Harley to the corner of the room. Morton was standing there, leaning casually against the wall, smirking at her. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he seemed to be enjoying the show.  
  
"I could have told you it would come to this," he said softly. "You locked in a little cell and shackled like a beaten down dog."  
  
She glared at him, wanting so desperately to attack. The blonde was in her way however, blocking her otherwise clear path to the meta bigot. She growled low under her breath.  
  
"Helena?" Harley asked, crouching down low to the ground. "Are you seeing something?" She ran a hand under the girls' chin and lifted it ever so slightly.  
  
Helena snapped towards her but her eyes were still wildly unfocused. "I'm looking at you," she grunted.  
  
Harley laughed. 'I didn't quite understand that Helena. Losing your ability to speak English are we?"  
  
Helena lunged out at the woman but Harley easily evaded her. She shook her head in mock dismay. "You're fading faster than I thought you would."  
  
"Yeah go ahead and try me," Helena hissed at her.  
  
Morton laughed. "And you'll do what? Look at yourself Helena; you're pathetic. I'd have already dropped you off a building by now."  
  
"Bullshit," she snapped.  
  
Harley lifted an eyebrow. She glanced over her shoulder and then looked back at her young captive. "Well I don't want to disturb your argument with your invisible friend. Just wanted to let you know I'll be out for a little while. So many people to kill you know and so very few hours."  
  
If Helena heard her she didn't pay her any attention. Her eyes were glued hard and fast on the opposite wall and whatever she thought she saw there. Harley smiled, patted her on the cheek and then stood up.  
  
The Huntress had been compromised.  
  
*****  
  
She stared at the machine for a very long time, her mind whirling. She knew the risks involved and her mind was screaming out at her to stop and think. She reached out with her left hand and ran her fingers over the smooth metal of the metal.  
  
The reality of the situation was that there wasn't time to stop and think. Dinah had been right about that much at least. Helena's life was too important to all of them and some risks were acceptable.  
  
Even if that meant strapping on the neural device in order to help her walk again.  
  
Even if that meant risking her own life.  
  
Time was short. Whatever the disease inside of Helena was, it was killing her, destroying her body and mind.  
  
Time was too short.  
  
Action was necessary.  
  
*****  
  
Sleep still wouldn't come and the exhaustion crushed down on her. Her body ached with fever and strain. She didn't know if she was dying but she was quite certain that she was losing her mind.  
  
All of it.  
  
She gazed up at Morton who had been joined by Cam. They were both watching her with a sort of sick curiosity. "Does it hurt?" Cam asked. "Because it hurt me when you left me to die."  
  
"You wanted to die," she replied wearily, much of the fight gone. She blinked at them, amazed by the shadows that surrounded them.  
  
Cam approached her. "Like you do now?"  
  
"I don't want to die," she protested.  
  
Morton smiled. "Why are you holding back Helena? Why are you fighing your rage? Let it go. Let your anger out."  
  
She slammed her fist into the ground. "Leave me alone."  
  
Morton nodded slowly. "Sure. I think you need some quiet time anyways. You know, to let it build."  
  
She looked up at him, eyes blue and slit into hard lines. She could feel it all building inside of her, escalating out of control.  
  
She could feel Helena fading.  
  
And it wasn't necessarily Huntress who was emerging.  
  
*****  
  
"She's gone," Dinah snapped as she stumbled into the kitchen. She looked up at Alfred who was cooking breakfast over the stove.  
  
"Gone?" he asked, only allowing a hint of alarm into his voice.  
  
"Yes," she snapped impatiently. "Gone."  
  
"The device is gone," Gibson said from the doorway. He rubbed at his eyes, looking weary but alert. He was dressed in flannel pants and his hair was going every which way.  
  
"The neural transponder?" Alfred inquired, meeting Dinah's eyes.  
  
Gibson nodded.  
  
"Then she went after Miss Helena."  
  
"We have to..."  
  
Alfred shook his head. "No. It won't do her any good for us to follow along. Right now all we can do is wait. And pray."  
  
Dinah blinked. Then she nodded.  
  
She dropped into one of the chairs and put her head in her hands.  
  
And started praying.  
  
* * * 


	19. An Oracle in my way

He stirred against the dirty fabric that served as a mattress. He pressed his face into it and inhaled the smell that emanated from it. It was his own stench and it was indeed quite foul. He shuddered violently, once again feeling the disease tear through him. A distant memory in the back of his mind reminded him that he had once been something much more than a monster. He had once been a father and a husband. That time was long gone now. Long in the past and drifting further away with each passing day.  
  
He pressed his eyes shut tightly, trying to stop the pain in his muscles. He wished for death but knew that it wasn't coming. She wasn't going to let him go. On some days he knew who his tormentor was and he even thought that maybe he could defeat her but those daydreams always washed away in the furious hunger of his illness.  
  
Like now. God now.  
  
He needed to feed.  
  
He staggered to his feet and pushed a hand against the wall. He dropped his head down and gazed at the gray cement floor. His bare feet slid coolly along the surface. It was almost a relief but that passed quickly as the ache in his bones intensified.  
  
As he moved towards the door to his room, a name went through his mind.  
  
Jimmy.  
  
He wondered idly who it belonged to.  
  
Hardly mattered.  
  
All that did was the pain. He needed to stop it. Needed to feed.  
  
Needed her.  
  
Whoever she was, she was intensely powerful and her blood was like a flush of cool ice water into his veins. Just thinking about her was like balm to his soul. That was of course assuming he still had one. Most of the time he wasn't so sure. He hardly knew what he was anymore. Man. Monster. Dog. All of it?  
  
No matter.  
  
He needed her.  
  
His eyes fogged over as the pain wracked his limbs. The hunger grew and as it did all thoughts of Jimmy and whatever that had once meant to him faded away.  
  
He needed her. Had to taste her.  
  
Had to feed.  
  
Had to live.  
  
*****  
  
"Stand up."  
  
"Move."  
  
"Fight."  
  
"You're a killer..."  
  
"You betrayed her..."  
  
"Fight."  
  
"Stay strong."  
  
"It's inside of you..."  
  
"Fight."  
  
"Stay strong."  
  
"Give in..."  
  
"Let go..."  
  
"Hold on."  
  
The voices twisted in her mind, fighting for dominance and screaming at her to listen to them. They demanded an audience and rejected her whimpers of protest. She pressed her hands over her ears and grunted in pain.  
  
She shoved her cheek closer to the cold ground, fighting for relief. The fever ravaging her body was beginning to take its toll on her body. She could feel the cold sweat drenching her skin but it did little to soothe the fiery heat.  
  
She pressed her eyes closed; once again praying for sleep that she knew wasn't coming. Right now she'd settle for silence from the voices that wouldn't stop screaming at her.  
  
"Helena."  
  
"Stand up."  
  
"Do you know why you betrayed her?"  
  
"Fight..."  
  
"It wasn't your fault..."  
  
"You are a killer."  
  
"Kill."  
  
"I'm not," she whispered, her voice hoarse with pain. She curled her body into a ball, listening to the chains clink as she moved. "I didn't kill him," she protested. "Harley killed Wade, not me..."  
  
"You know better," Gibson said from the doorway. She looked up at him and saw him leaning casually against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He was smirking at her, regarding her with an icy coolness.  
  
"Gibson?" she asked, confusion in her bloodshot blue eyes.  
  
"It's me," he replied. He took a step towards her. "Honestly, I always knew you'd turn out like this."  
  
She shook her head. "Gibson...this isn't you...."  
  
He laughed. "Probably not." He bent over her and touched her face. She flinched away. He laughed. "But you're not much anymore now are you Killer?"  
  
She looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of humanity, any sign of the boy that she'd grown up with. All she saw with hatred. She lowered her eyes away from him.  
  
"Look at me when I speak to you. You got me killed, it's the very least you can do," a voice snapped from above her. She paled as she recognized the speaker. She looked up and into his dark eyes, vaguely aware that Gibson had suddenly vanished.  
  
"Reese," she mumbled. She touched her hands to her head and shook it desperately, quite aware that she was going mad and quite conscious of the fact that she could do very little if anything to stop it.  
  
He smiled at her but it was a cruel twisted thing. As he bent closer to her she could see that his eyes were blank and vacant. By the time he touched her she could smell the rancid stench of death about him. "You know they got a hell of a room all set up downstairs for you little Huntress."  
  
"It's that kind of like you know heaven has a hell of a band?" she rasped out, trying desperately to be defiant and failing miserably. Her resolve didn't quite reach her eyes.  
  
"Something like that," he grinned. He leaned towards her and pressed his mouth to hers. She gasped, eyes wide in horror.  
  
"Helena, what are you doing?" Barbara said from behind her. She blinked, realizing that Reese had disappeared just as Gibson had before him. She spun towards her mentors' voice.  
  
"Barbara," she stammered. She pushed herself to her feet and inched closer to the redhead who was curiously standing on her own two feet.  
  
"Always thinking about yourself aren't you? Who cares if Reese died. You had it coming. You took something from me. Payback's a bitch, huh?"  
  
Helena shook her head. "No," she whispered feebly.  
  
"Yes," Dinah said from her side. "What did you expect?"  
  
"No," Helena said, looking at the blonde. She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "No!" Standing up she rushed at the touch telepath, fully intending to knock her to the ground.  
  
She hit the wall instead.  
  
She dropped her head into her arms. The emptiness of the room echoed around her. There was no one there and there was no one coming to rescue her.  
  
It was over.  
  
She was lost.  
  
To hell with it then.  
  
Let it come.  
  
Let is all just come.  
  
*****  
  
Barbara slid her body against the rocks and gazed down towards the bunker. She could see the entrance hatch a few feet away. She steeled her lithe frame, preparing herself for battle with whoever might be holding Helena.  
  
She'd watched Harley drive away with someone thirty minutes earlier which meant that whoever was guarding her young protégé was likely well armed. Barbara clutches at her escrima sticks.  
  
"Let's go," she muttered to herself. *****  
  
He slid into the room, dragging his feet as he moved. He saw her laying on the floor, curled into a tight ball. He could smell her fear and desperation. It was emanating from her in frantic waves. He moved over her and pressed his nose up against her, sniffing her as a dog would. He nudged her a couple times but she didn't move. Just the same, she didn't appear to be unconscious so much as unresponsive.  
  
Not a problem.  
  
He bent back over and her pressed her mouth against the gauze bandage on her neck. He licked it twice and then tried to yank at it with his teeth. He felt her stir beneath him and an alarm went off in his head.  
  
His hunger demanded that he stay and feed.  
  
He licked his lips and leaned down towards her again, intending to re-open her wound.  
  
Her eyes snapped open and she spun quickly, punching him hard in the face. The chains around her hands jingled as she delivered a second vicious smash to his jaw. He howled in pain and dropped backwards, eyes wide in shock and fear.  
  
Before he could think of what to do, she charged him, slamming her body into his. Her eyes dilated into hard blue slits and she growled at him, her more primal instincts overtaking her mind. More out of instinct than reason, she lifted his arms over him and used the chains on her hands to slam him back against her chest. He whimpered and cried out, thrashing for air.  
  
She wrapped the chains tightly around his throat and began to squeeze, a strange smile appearing on her lips. It was almost macabre really. He struggled, trying to use his larger body to shove her away but she held on, fighting him off with her own superior strength. They both slammed to the ground hard. She wrapped her legs around his body and jerked him towards her. The only thing she could hear in her mind was the desperate order to keep pulling. Her life or his.  
  
"Jimmy," Alushe gasped.  
  
She blinked and for a moment there was an opening in the shadows of her brain. That faded quickly enough however and she jerked back hard once more. He gasped and collapsed, his body still.  
  
She touched his skin, feeling for any movement. Immediately she knew the truth. He was dead.  
  
She had killed him.  
  
Killer indeed.  
  
She pulled her hands free of him; ignorant of the blood that now soaked the chains she was wearing. She looked around frantically, her body and mind refusing to move at the same speed. She noticed that the door to the cell was open.  
  
"I knew it was in you."  
  
"You've always been a killer."  
  
"I don't know you."  
  
She slammed her hand hard against the ground, rage overtaking her. Eyes still hard lines of fury, she stood up and moved towards the door, suddenly understanding that it was open and that meant escape.  
  
Helena slid out into the cold hallway, feeling the cement beneath her bare feet. She wrapped the chains around her palms in order to reinforce her strength, fully prepared to kill anyone who would step in her way.  
  
She glanced around and took in her surroundings. A voice in the back of her mind tried to tell her that she was in some kind of bunker but she ignored it, not caring where she was only that she get out and away.  
  
A dim light in the corridor flashed and she blinked, violently assaulted by the pale light. She smashed her fists against the bulb and it went dark. She sighed in relief and continued moving.  
  
She heard a door close somewhere nearby. She laughed, the madness gripping her. She tensed her body, preparing for the fight. Readying herself to kill once more.  
  
It was her only chance for escape. She feared that before too much longer she'd have no sense of time or place and then all would be lost.  
  
Kill or be killed really.  
  
Attack and fight.  
  
She wrapped the chains around her hands and smiled, a strange, horrific and predatory thing.  
  
*****  
  
Barbara slid down the corridor, apprehension weighing down her steps. She glanced anxiously around, thankful for the relative quiet of the bunker. There had been three large men guarding the entrance but they had all been dispatched with relative ease.  
  
She allowed her mind to wander a bit as she walked down the hallway. Helena was in very serious danger. The disease running rampant through her blood was destroying her immune system and probably her mind. Without some kind of treatment, she had no chance at survival.  
  
Barbara shook her head, her lips tight in an expression of frustration. She wasn't about to just let go of the young girl who had for so long been her lifeline.  
  
She turned a corner and stopped, green eyes going wide. "Helena," she gasped, glancing across at the disheveled brunette girl who was standing not twenty feet from her.  
  
Helena's mouth lifted into a sneer and she growled, looking more animal than girl. Her body was arched in a predatory fashion and she looked ready to charge. Barbara took note of the way Helena was holding the strangely bloodied chains around her hands.  
  
She looked over her young charge, shocked by what she saw. Her skin was yellow and parched, her hair dirty and stringy. Her clothes were drenched with sweat and sticking to her shaking frame. The look on her face was one of pure stark madness and the black circles under her eyes confirmed that she probably hadn't slept in days.  
  
"Helena, it's me."  
  
The brunette appeared not to hear her. She slid instead into a defensive stance and growled again, the sound echoing in the hallway.  
  
"Helena, it's me, Barbara...come on, you know me."  
  
"Wanna play," the girl responded, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. Just the same. Barbara knew better than to underestimate her young charge. There was something lost and vacant there. Desperate and afraid.  
  
For whatever reason, Helena saw her as an enemy.  
  
"I don't want to fight you, Hel," Barbara protested, putting her hands up to show that she wasn't a threat.  
  
"That's too bad," Helena replied, stepping towards her mentor. "Because I want to kill you."  
  
"No you don't," Barbara said, shaking her head. "It's not you. Helena please, look at me....look at me..."  
  
She took a step towards Helena and grabbed the girls' chin, jerking it upwards. Before she could get too far Helena slapped her away, scratching her cheek in the motion. Barbara hissed in pain but immediately refocused herself.  
  
"Helena..."  
  
"Get out of my way," the girl growled, taking a step towards her mentor's side.  
  
"I came here to help you and I'm not leaving without you," Barbara said simply. "You know me. Barbara...."  
  
Helena snapped her eyes up towards the redhead. "You touch her and I'll rip your fucking throat out."  
  
Barbara chuckled. "Well that's good to know." She frowned. "I think." Then she shook her head. "Hel, it is me..."  
  
Helena put her head down and charged forward, slamming hard into Barbara's chest. The redhead grunted and slapped out, knocking Helena back and away. She placed one of the sticks in Helena's path and cracked it hard against the brunette's knee. The girl cried out but jerked forward again.  
  
Barbara closed her eyes, praying for strength. "Helena," she whispered, looking up at her young charge. "I'm sorry."  
  
And then she reached out and slammed the stick against Helena's jaw, using as much strength as she dare muster. She heard a loud crack and then Helena whimpered and crumbled, pressing her wounded face into her arms.  
  
Barbara bent down over Helena and lifted her up into her arms. She reached down into the bag she'd been carrying and removed a syringe. She flicked the tip off and then injected it into Helena's neck. The girl looked up at her, pain in her blue eyes. "Barbara...."  
  
"Shh baby." Barbara replied. "I've got you now."  
  
*****  
  
"Dinah?"  
  
The blonde blinked and stood up abruptly, knocking over a mug of apple cider in her haste. She cursed mildly, watching the spreading liquid seep into the creases of her math book.  
  
She reached over and grabbed the microphone. "Oracle?"  
  
"I'm here," the redhead grunted across the open line.  
  
"Helena?"  
  
"I...I've got her..."  
  
"Are you okay? Do you need backup?"  
  
"No," Barbara said quickly. "I've got her in the Hummer now. We're on our way back."  
  
"Good," Dinah said softly. She glanced down at her hands and took a deep breath. "What the hell were you thinking going in there by yourself."  
  
"Dinah, we didn't have time..."  
  
"You got pissed at me for going into Reese's mind and then you walk right into Harley's lair..."  
  
"Can this wait?" Barbara answered. Dinah heard the sound of an engine turning over.  
  
"For now," Dinah said softly. "How's Helena?"  
  
"Not good. Tell Alfred to get my lab set up. We're coming in."  
  
***** 


	20. Harleen challenge

Sorry for the delay, and thanks for your comments. Waves and hugs to all. It's a pleasure and make us feel very happy reading your comments.  
  
******  
  
He paced anxiously, his fingers twisting into each other, as his nervousness seemed to consume him whole. He had listened to the entire conversation between Barbara Gordon and Dinah Redmond but if you asked him what they'd said, he was sure that he would draw a blank. Which considering his inability to forget any sound, smell or other sensory input allowed him was rather bizarre. The truth however was that after he had heard Barbara tell them that she had rescued Helena and was returning with her, nothing else had really mattered.  
  
Not one bit.  
  
"Gibson?" Dinah said softly. She touched the fabric of his blue shirt lightly, being cautious not to make bodily contact. She could tell by his stance that he was apprehensive and she really didn't want to take in the miles upon miles of thoughts that she figured had to be whirling their way through his mind.  
  
He looked up at her and blinked. He offered her and uneasy smile. Then he glanced up as the elevator settled against the ground floor and the doors slid open, squeaking mildly as they pulled back to reveal the large cement structure at the base of the Clocktower that served as the parking garage.  
  
"They're here," he said quickly, almost abruptly. He caught the stray concerned look from Dinah but brushed it off. He heard the bottom of her crutches scrape the cement as she hopped towards the Hummer that had just pulled into the garage.  
  
The drivers' door opened quickly, almost abruptly and Barbara jumped out. Dinah could plainly see the bumps of the neural transponder that was attached to her mentors' back. She clenched her fists hard, trying to bite back her anger and frustration.  
  
"Help me," Barbara said quickly, seeming to sense the odd waves of irritation that were emanating from her young charge. She knew full well that Dinah had every right to be pissed off at her but now was neither the time nor the place for it.  
  
Gibson moved around Dinah and slid over to where Barbara was hunched over the Hummer. He touched her hand as if to steady her but she waved him off. "I'm fine. She's in the back."  
  
He nodded quickly and then went over to the backseat and jerked the door open with about as much emotion and intensity as you would ever see from a guy like Gibson Kafka. He reached in and slid his arms underneath the bundle of limbs and flesh that lay haphazardly across the seat. He could feel the heat rising up in near flames from her frame but it was the smell that hung on her that made him almost recoil.  
  
Helena Kyle always smelled good. Had her entire life. Even after a fight. It was just her thing. Or maybe it was his crush and he didn't know any better. Just the same, the odor that hung on her now reminded him rather starkly of death and decay. His eyes lit on the heavy metal manacles that were attached to her wrists, each smeared with what looked like blood. He decided not to dwell too long on that. Nothing good could come from it.  
  
"Gibson," Dinah said from behind him. He turned and saw that she was holding a large brown blanket in her hand. He took it from her and wrapped it around Helena's trembling body. He glanced up at Barbara. "What did that bitch do to her?"  
  
Barbara blinked, utterly taken aback by the harshness of both his tone and words. "Uh..."  
  
He smiles wistfully, seeming to understand her sudden confusion. "Upstairs then?" he said, indicating towards the elevator.  
  
"We need to get that thing off your back," Dinah said dryly, looking right up and into Barbara's tired green eyes. The redhead just offered her a sardonic smile, knowing that this was a fight that she was going to have eventually.  
  
"Upstairs," Barbara answered, her voice soft. She glanced at the body Gibson was clutching to him and tried desperately to quiet the rampant fear that was coursing through her.  
  
She needn't have bothered. The fear wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.  
  
*****  
  
The woman stepped into the cell and cursed. Not for the first time and surely not for the last. Her anger was apparent in her wildly snapping blue eyes. Somehow even her blonde hair looked a little mad. She paced back and forth and then spun hard on her companion. "Five men Torch."  
  
"I saw," Torch replied with the slightest bit of a smile. "The cripple took them all down. Impressive."  
  
"That's not impressive," Harley snapped back. "It's annoying."  
  
"And him?"  
  
Harley looked down at the dead young man on the cement. There were dark angry marks around his neck and his eyes were still open, trapped in an expression of horror. She bent over him and ran a hand past his eyes, almost lovingly closing them. "Oh she'll pay," Harley promised. Then she smiled. "And I think I know how."  
  
*****  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Dinah asked as she watched Barbara start to strap Helena down to the medical med in the middle of the lab. "Why are you restraining her?"  
  
"She tried to attack me," Barbara said plainly. "She's not quite herself. This disease is already causing dementia." She slid her palm over Helena's forehead and did a very unscientific check for fever. She wasn't terribly surprised to feel the hotness of the younger woman's' skin.  
  
"She looks terrible," Gibson said softly. He was clutching the blanket to his chest. It was an absurd visual really. He looked almost like a small child with a ninny.  
  
"She's dehydrated, malnourished and physically exhausted. I doubt she's slept since Harley got her," Barbara muttered as she pulled one of the straps tight. It broke her heart to be tying her young charge down like she would an animal but just the same; she wasn't willing to take any chances.  
  
"Barbara..." Helena mumbled, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.  
  
"Hey," Barbara said softly, leaning close to her young charge.  
  
"Lights," Helena stammered, her blue eyes just barely opening. She squinted and then quickly closed them again. "Please."  
  
Barbara nodded to Dinah to bring the lights down. She touched Helena's face, running her thumb over the brunette's smooth skin. "How do you feel?"  
  
"My skin...everything...hurts," Helena gasped. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at Barbara in horror. "Please..."  
  
"Easy baby," Barbara said softly. She allowed her hand to drop down to Helena's neck. With a very deft swipe she removed the blood stained gauze bandage. She hissed in concern when she saw the large oozing wound. The colors around the injury were dark and ugly and it was spitting out yellow- green liquid. She very cautiously ran the tip of her finger over the inflamed flesh.  
  
Helena growled, the low sound rumbling in her throat. "Get your fucking hands off me," she snapped, eyes dilating and yet somehow seeming almost vacant.  
  
"Relax," Barbara mumbled as she continued to probe the wound. Helena moved against her binds and hissed when she realized that she couldn't break herself loose. "Helena, what is this?"  
  
The girl dropped back the moment Barbara lifted her hand up. She sighed, relieved a bit. "I don't know," she answered, closing her eyes. "I just want to sleep."  
  
"That's from that thing in the pictures, right?" Gibson asked, slipping behind Barbara and gazing down at Helena. Once again he wondered why, knowing that he'd never get the visual out of his mind. His stomach rolled but he fought it back, vowing to stay strong and steady.  
  
"I think so," Barbara admitted. "Helena, did Harley give you any kind of drug?"  
  
Helena looked up, eyes bloodshot and tired. "No."  
  
"What did she give to you? Did she do anything to stop you from sleeping?"  
  
"Don't remember," Helena slurred, eyes drooping again.  
  
"Helena," Barbara said, sliding a hand under the brunettes' chin and lifting it ever so slight. "I need you to focus for just a few more minutes."  
  
"Sleep..."  
  
"Soon. I promise. I need to know what happened in there. I need to know how to help you."  
  
Helena lifted her arms in the chains, raising it just a few inches and pointed behind Barbara. "Make him shut up," she mumbled, apparently indicating towards the wall. "I didn't kill him. He jumped."  
  
"No one is there," Dinah said, alarm making her voice squeak.  
  
Barbara shook her head. "Hel, listen, I know somehow you were poisoned..."  
  
Helena nodded. "Yeah...that thing bit me..." she looked up, a strange sense of madness in her eyes. "But I killed him. I killed him Barbara..."  
  
"Shh," Barbara said softly. "Okay, I want you to close your eyes now."  
  
Helena did as she was told. After a long moment a single tear trickled down through her eyelashes. "I can't," she stammered, her voice cracking and breaking. "It won't come....I can't..."  
  
"Dinah," Barbara said, pointing towards the table on the far side of the room. "Get me the green syringe on the end."  
  
"Sure," Dinah answered. She spun her fingers around and the syringe jumped into the air and moved slowly across the air. She smiled when she saw Barbara scowling at her. "Oh you just wish you could do that."  
  
Barbara snorted, "Yeah, that's true." She took the needle from Dinah and injected it slowly into Helena. The girl whimpered but kept her eyes closed.  
  
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean for you to die..."  
  
Barbara reached down and brushed the stuck hair away from Helena's sweaty forehead. "Shh, we're all here, Hel, that's all that matters now. Everything is okay."  
  
"She's lying Helena," Cam said from behind Barbara. He smirked at her. "Nothing will ever be okay ever again. And soon you'll be with me in hell. Right where you belong."  
  
"No...." the brunette mumbled.  
  
"Easy Hel...."  
  
"Barbara," Helena mumbled, her words slurring as the drug took effect. "He's right. He's right. I'm a killer."  
  
And with that she faded out, her body going slack against the binds. Barbara gazed down at her, eyes full of deep worry and concern. Then she shook her head. "What did that bitch do to her?" She asked the question more to herself than to the others. Finally she looked up and towards the doorway where Alfred was standing, silently watching. "Draw a bath would you? Her temperature is... we need."  
  
"I'm on it," he interjected with a smile. She nodded, thankful.  
  
*****  
  
Dinah frowned as she stared down at the digital read-out. 106.1. Impossibly high really for any normal person. Almost too much for even Helena. Dinah shifted slightly and kicked her good leg out. She had been sitting next to the bed for almost three hours. They'd all worked in shifts with Barbara going first followed by Gibson. Barbara had finally reluctantly retired to her apartment but Gibson had chosen to sleep on the futon in the lab.  
  
"How is she?" Barbara asked as she entered the lab, chair gliding silently beneath her.  
  
"You should be in bed," Dinah responded.  
  
"I should," Barbara admitted. "I couldn't sleep."  
  
"I could make you some tea," Alfred said from the doorway. "I believe it is my shift now and both of you should be in bed."  
  
The two women exchanged looks and then started laughing. They both briefly considered turning on each other but that passed quickly enough. "Not gonna happen," Dinah told him. Then she shook her. "Temp is still too high and there's still this icky stuff coming out of the wound."  
  
"It's the poison," Barbara murmured, leaning down over Helena's unconscious form. "I don't like the color of this at all." She pressed her finger to the strange yellow bruising around the wound.  
  
"She will be okay," Alfred assured them both.  
  
"Alfred...." Barbara started. He held up a hand.  
  
"Trust in yourself and Miss Helena," Alfred insisted.  
  
"It's not that," Barbara said with a shake of her head. "I keep looking at the chemical composition of this disease and every single time I try to map it, it seems to alter. Like it's actively evading me. I don't know how to fight this thing. It's destroying her blood cells."  
  
"Barbara," Dinah said suddenly. She pointed at the phone on the wall, which was blinking red.  
  
The redhead glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. It was the middle of the night which meant that it could only really be one person.  
  
She moved her chair over to the phone and picked up the handset. "Harley," she said coolly.  
  
"Barbara Gordon," Harley laughed, trying to sound like she was taking to an old friend. "You know I'm really quite disappointed in you."  
  
"Oh really?" Barbara drolled. "I'm heartbroken."  
  
"I thought you had raised her better than that. Turns out I was right after all," Harley taunted. "She really is a killer. A delightful beautiful..."  
  
"Oh save it," Barbara snapped. "You lost. Again."  
  
Harley laughed but there was little mirth there. She was trying to play flip but it was fairly obvious that she was quite angry. "I lost? Really? Have you run any tests on sweet Helena yet? Oh of course you have. You're quite anal retentive like that. Believe me, you have no idea how much I heard about you and your wonderfully neurotic quirks from Helena. They're rather boring I think but Helena likes them. Everyone now...aww..."  
  
"Harley..."  
  
"Oh patience Barbara Gordon. You'll want to hear this."  
  
"I don't want to hear anything from you but..."  
  
"Oh do go on. Are you about to threaten my life?"  
  
Barbara glanced up and into Dinah's eyes. Behind her Gibson had sat up and was now watching her with large curious eyes. She sighed. "Cut the bullshit Harley. What do you want?"  
  
"Why revenge of course. You killed Alushe."  
  
"I'm guessing you mean that thing...that vampire thing?"  
  
"I told you he doesn't like to be called a vampire," Harley corrected sounding irritated.  
  
"Imagine me caring," Barbara sighed, impatience creeping into her tone. She drummed her nails against the desk and glanced back towards Helena who was still sleeping, albeit rather fitfully. Alfred was standing over her gently dabbing at her feverish temple with a slightly damp blue cloth.  
  
"I would advise caring," Harley snapped. "Helena's life depends on it."  
  
"What do you want?" Barbara demanded between tightly grit teeth.  
  
"To give you a chance to save Helena."  
  
Barbara laughed. "Are you kidding me? Why would you do that?"  
  
"Oh because I intend to kill you," Harley replied smugly. "As a present for Helena of course. She killed my Alushe and now I'll take you."  
  
Barbara frowned. She remembered the bloody shackles that had been on Helena's hands when the brunette had attacked her back at the bunker. She had thought the blood had been the girls' but now she knew better; Helena had killed Alushe. "What was he Harley?"  
  
"A special creation, My best ever," Harley laughed.  
  
"What did he do to her?"  
  
"He started something."  
  
"What?" Barbara growled. "What did he start?"  
  
"Her death of course," Harley chuckled. She was finding this all so terribly amusing. In fact her initial rage fit seemed to have passed and now she was back to playing games.  
  
"Harley..."  
  
"Oh you're wasting time. The first time Alushe feed from her he started a process that only I can stop. His blood is tainted. He has the Meta virus in his system. You know the fables Destiny virus."  
  
Barbara closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. She looked over at Gibson who was wearing the same horrified expression. "You bitch," the redhead muttered.  
  
"Uh uh," Harley warned. "I don't like that word and it's certainly no way to get my help."  
  
"Your help? You have a cure."  
  
"Of course," Harley replied with a slight laugh. "I had the Destiny virus created in the first place. I have a cure."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I'm willing to let you try to win it from me."  
  
"Barbara, no," Dinah said, taking an unsteady step towards her mentor. "You can't." Gibson quickly reached out and caught her arm. He shook his head as if to tell her to wait a few moments.  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"I propose a therapy session between you and I. I know you still have quite a few unresolved issues due to the whole unfortunate Wade situation. Well as a formally licenses therapist, I'd be delighted to help you out."  
  
Barbara snorted. "Okay Harley, I'll play. Where?"  
  
"Barbara!" Dinah cried out, her fingers digging into the rest on her crutch. She could still feel Gibson holding her forearm but even he was tense now.  
  
Barbara held up a hand to silence her. "When and where Harley?"  
  
"That's my girl," Harley cackled. "I love heroes."  
  
****  
  
He bent down over the girl and pressed his palm to her forehead. The fever was still so high. Her entire body was soaked in sweat and she was trembling. "Alfred?" she murmured, blue eyes flashing open just barely.  
  
He smiled at her, offering her all the warmth he had had inside of him. Which considering his affection for her was quite a bit. She ran his palm over her cheek. She slid her hand atop his and held it there. Her restraints gave her just another length to be able to do so and she was thankful.  
  
"Good morning Miss Helena," he said gently.  
  
"Lights?" she asked softly. "Please. My eyes..."  
  
"Of course," he replied. He was about to step away from her but she held him close. He glanced back towards the light switch and was relieved to see Gibson standing in the doorway, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. He seemed to understand the old mans' request and immediately switched off the bright lab lights.  
  
Helena blinked and looked around the lab. She glanced down at her hands and saw that she was shackled to the bed. She groaned loudly. "What the fuck?"  
  
"For your own safety," he assured her. "I'm afraid you're not quite yourself right now."  
  
She laughed bitterly. "You have no idea. I feel like I've gone fifteen rounds with Mike Tyson and the sonafabitch bit MY ear." She paused. "And my neck."  
  
Alfred chuckled. "I assure you that you would have kicked his ass."  
  
She squeezed his hand. Then she looked around him. "Hey Gibson, what brings you here."  
  
He came close to her and knocked the shackled but somehow still offered fist of his best friend. "Always by your side," he promised.  
  
She smiled. "I know." Then she frowned. "Where are Barbara and Dinah?"  
  
"Working on a cure."  
  
"A cure?"  
  
"I believe you were infected with some type of disease," Alfred said simply, not really wanting to elaborate. "They are working on a cure at the moment."  
  
"You don't sound very hopeful."  
  
"On the contrary," Alfred assured her. "When it comes to Miss Barbara, I am always confident and hopeful. One way or another, she will do what must be done."  
  
"Including die for you," Morton said from the doorway. He was standing maybe half a foot from Gibson but the boy didn't seem to be aware of him.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Helena hissed at him, anger coursing through her.  
  
Gibson glanced up at Alfred and the two exchanged a worried look. Helena was hallucinating again. Unfortunately ever since she'd been brought in she'd seemed prone to these odd delusional attacks and they appeared to be getting worse instead of better. Surely the path of progress of the disease was to blame.  
  
"I wanted to watch you die like the dog you are," Morton laughed.  
  
"You're mine," Cam said, stepping closer to her.  
  
She growled and tried to move but the chains held her tight. She felt a hand touch her forehead and then a soft voice tell her to calm down, that she was okay. That it was all going to be just fine. She didn't quite buy it but it was a nice thought just the same.  
  
"It's just about time now," Slick grinned. "You're just about ready to come down to hell with us."  
  
She closed her eyes and fell backwards, the anger seeping away from her.  
  
She felt lost. So utterly lost.  
  
****  
  
"Barbara, please, think about this," Dinah urged, hopping around to stand in front of her mentor who was once again strapping on the neural transponder. The redhead hissed as she connected it to her spine and the device buzzed to life with a quick hard shock.  
  
"Dinah, I can't do anything," Barbara replied, glancing down at the controls.  
  
"Of course you can..."  
  
Barbara looked up and shook her head, "No, I can't. The Destiny Virus always kills and within a very quick amount of time. Somehow Harley engineered Alushe to be a carrier so he was somewhat immune to the deadly effects of it but Helena isn't. She has maybe twenty-four hours left. I can't...I won't let her go out like that."  
  
"Barbara..."  
  
"I can't save her Dinah. I can't do it on my own. I need to do something. If Harley has a cure...I need to..."  
  
"And what if she doesn't? What if this is all a trap?"  
  
"I beat her once before," Barbara said confidently. "I can do it again. It's a chance I have to take."  
  
"I thought we were a team?"  
  
"We are. And I need you here watching over Helena. Making sure she lives long enough for me to get back with a cure."  
  
"Right," Dinah admitted, sounding utterly defeated. "Okay then, I want you on comm."  
  
"No," Barbara said simply, "Won't do any good and I can't be distracted at all. Besides I'm guessing that this canyon Harley has me going to has some kind of electronic blocker...probably iron in the hills."  
  
"Barbara..."  
  
"Trust me," the redhead said, standing up. She flexed her muscles and sighed. "Well I guess this is it. Wish me luck."  
  
"Just come home," Dinah said dully. "Please. I can't do this without you two."  
  
Barbara smiled softly. She reached across and hugged Dinah, bringing the blonde to her chest. They held the embrace for several moments as they both fought for control. Finally Barbara broke it and without another word strode towards the elevator.  
  
As soon as the door had closed behind her mentor, Dinah turned and headed towards the lab. She saw Gibson and Alfred standing over Helena's now unconscious frame. "Hey," she whispered at them. They both looked up so she motioned for them to follow her outside the room.  
  
"We need a plan," she said quickly.  
  
"A plan Miss Dinah?"  
  
She smiled. "I'm not letting Barbara go in there alone. We all know it's a trap. Harley probably has some of her thugs lying in wait." She paused. "Did I just actually say 'lying in wait' because yikes."  
  
Gibson nodded. "Fraid so."  
  
She shuddered. "Okay. Anyway. We're going in after her. To even up the score."  
  
"The three of us and Barbara against Harley and probably ten goons," Gibson said with a wry nod.  
  
"Try four," a voice said from the doorway. The trio turned and Alfred smiled.  
  
"Master Reese," he greeted warmly.  
  
Reese spared a quick smile but then returned to business. "In the flesh. Now tell me, what's the plan?"  
  
Dinah took a deep breath and the replied, "Listen." 


	21. The cure

Title: Rainy Days and Mondays  
Chapter: 16  
Authors: Jag, Shawn(GF)  
Rating: Eh PG13. Nothing terribly graphic. Food is okay.  
Notes: Sorry about the wait. Real life stepped in for a bit. I have now been flogged and am apologetic. Hope it's worth the wait.  
  
Again, sorry for the wait. Enjoy. Jaggy and I certainly have... Shawn

----------------

Barbara slipped down the dusty incline, her feet kicking up clouds of red powder. She was wearing heavy leather boots. They felt strange, almost alien to her. She groaned a bit as the device on her back sparked angrily. She knew full well that she shouldn't be using it again so soon but she quickly dismissed the thought, unwilling to dwell on her own safety when Helena was in such dire straights.  
  
"I wasn't sure you'd come Barbara Gordon," the woman said from behind her. Barbara froze, her body rigid with anxiety. There were few people in her life that she had ever actually hated, certainly none of the many enemies that she had faced aside from the Joker. This woman however made every drop of blood in her veins flare to life. Long ago she had learned to control her anger and rage in order to channel it and make it useful Now, staring down a woman that she could only call stone cold evil, she felt everything coming to a fiery boil.  
  
She turned slowly, lips drawn tight in an expression of barely controlled rage. "That's a lie," she managed, emerald green eyes hard and cold. She clenched her fists, her well-manicured nails biting harshly into the soft flesh of her moisturized skin.  
  
Harley laughed, blue eyes dancing and full of mirth. It was all a game to her, a delightful joke. "You're not wrong. I knew you'd come, so dependable."  
  
"I want the cure," Barbara hissed.  
  
Harley flipped her hand dismissively. "All in good time. I didn't bring you here to just hand it over." She buffed her nails against the ugly green shirt she was wearing, pretending to be disinterested.  
  
"Why did you bring me here then?" Barbara demanded, eyes narrowing. She felt a spot of wetness against her palm and wondered if she'd drawn blood. Now was no time to look though.  
  
"Oh because I thought it was time you and I had a talk. An over inflated self-important hero to..."  
  
"Babbling psychotic bitch villain talk?" Barbara drawled. "That's rather pathetic don't you think?"  
  
"Ooh I see you're testy Barbara Gordon," Harley said. Then she frowned. "What do you think of this outfit? I think it looked better in a darker light. The sunlight brings out all the nuances and they're not at all attractive. Much like Helena don't you think?"  
  
"Harley..."  
  
"Oh temper temper. What is your rush?" Harley laughed. "It's not like someone's dying for you to get back to them."  
  
"Mostly I'm just bored and not terribly amused," the redhead snapped back, "I mean this is what your great epic plan is? To bore me to death?"  
  
Harley blinked, for a moment taken aback. She smiled a bit uncertainly, not quite sure she liked the change in attitude from the woman she considered her prey. Finally she managed, "No, hardly. How is Helena doing?"  
  
"Just how you know she is," Barbara replied tersely. "That poison in her system is killing her. But you knew that so can we please move on?"  
  
"What if I'm not ready to move on?" Harley asked, glancing down at her nails. She flicked one of them and made a face. "That's it, I must find myself a new manicurist. Wait, I have to anyway, I killed my last one. She wanted me to wear this awful pink. Dreadful."  
  
Barbara took a step towards the blonde, feeling a surge of pain explode at the base of her spin. She swallowed it down and continued moving. "I wasn't asking."  
  
Harley looked up, a look of surprise on her face. "Oh goody, is this where we fight?"  
  
Barbara smirked, an almost sinister gleam igniting in her eyes. "Yes," she agreed. "This is where I put you down like the diseased bitch you are."  
  
And with that she lunged forward, colliding head first into the former therapists chest.  
  
The blonde woman grunted and fell back, laughing.

-------------------------

"I'm not sure this is a smart idea Reese," Dinah said over the comm, her voice low and throaty. The girl swallowed against the panic racing through her. She spun slightly in her chair and looked back towards where Alfred was standing, hovering just a few inches outside of the door to the med lab.  
  
"We don't have a choice," the cop came back. "Besides I think Gibson and I can handle this."  
  
"I think you and Gibson are what I'm worried about," Dinah chuckled, eyes still glued on the elderly butler who was trying to make it look like he was doing anything but watching Helena was an eagle eye. She lifted up a mug of hot chocolate to her lips and sipped at the frothy liquid, tasting the cocoa on her tongue.  
  
"Not to fear," Gibson chirped. "We are..."  
  
"If you start on that Avengers of the Night crap again I'm going to shoot you myself," Jesse Reese growled, a small hint of amusement betraying him. "Then you won't have the word about the Evil Conquestess."  
  
"I so don't want to know," Dinah laughed, putting the mug down. She watched as the screen changed angles to allow her to see what path Barbara was taking. Because of the metal in the hills around the canyon, the signal was a faint flashing gray instead of the usual vibrant blinking red.  
  
"Right," Gibson muttered. "Dinah do you see Barbara on the grid?"  
  
"She's just about off it," Dinah replied. She tapped the blinking signal, watching with dismay as it continued to fade away  
  
"That's okay," Reese murmured. "I see her."  
  
The two men stepped up on the hill, becoming visible to the canyon for just a few moments. Just long enough for them to see the two women rolling around in the dust, about eighty feet below.  
  
"Normally I'd love what I'm seeing," Gibson said with a slight smile. "But the dire nature of this situation has..." he stopped, somehow speechless. He looked up at his companion and swallowed. "I don't have words."  
  
"I know," Reese said. He flinched a bit as he pulled Gibson down behind a large rock. He put his hand over his chest wound. "Did you see the guys over on the left?"  
  
"No," Gibson admitted. Then he blinked. "Yes. Three of them. One of them in green with a rifle scope."  
  
"I thought you said you didn't see them?" Reese asked, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out his service pistol and started to load it.  
  
"I didn't," Gibson admitted. "I mean at least not consciously."  
  
"Right. Cool trick."  
  
"Sometimes," Gibson muttered, memory wickedly rewinding to the horrific photos of his best friend being fed on by that diseased biological manipulation. "So what's the plan?"  
  
"We keep the thugs off of Barbara and Harley. Let them fight this out. Barbara is a hell of a fighter, she can manage," Reese stated.  
  
Gibson held out his hands as if to say "with what shall I fight?". Reese smiled slightly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal stick, maybe three inches high and an inch thick. "You want me to throw that at people?" Gibson asked. "Because I think I'm only gonna get one good chance."  
  
Reese laughed. He snapped his wrist hard and the handle expanded into a thick heavy metal fighting stick. "Think you can manage this?"  
  
Gibson took it from him and swallowed. "I think so."  
  
"And if you two boys are done being macho," Dinah said mildly, more than a little amusement in her tone. "Let's get to the butt kicking."  
  
"We're just about ready," Reese responded. "How's Helena?"  
  
"Same. Get Barbara back here.," Dinah replied tersely.  
  
"Will do," Reese said softly. He touched his ear. "I think the signal is going to drop out Dinah. Wish us luck."  
  
"You have it," Dinah whispered. "God you have it."

------------------------  
  
She reached up and brushed the blood away from her split lip. Standing up she ignored the jolts of electricity dancing down her spine. "Is that the best you've got?" she growled at her blonde nemesis.  
  
Harley laughed. "I was going to ask you the same question Barbara Gordon. I thought you had more control than this. No wonder Helena is little more than a rabid dog."  
  
Barbara took a step backwards, hands clenched into tight fists. She examined her opponent and saw with a small degree of pride that she had left several marks already. "She kicked your ass didn't she?"  
  
"Not really," Harley laughed. "If I recall, I fed her to my new puppy."  
  
Barbara shook her head. "You really are a monster."  
  
Harley opened her mouth wide, as if in shock. Then she clamped it shut and placed a flat palm over her lips. "Well that was just rude."  
  
"I'm done with the games Harley."  
  
"Oh no no no, they're just beginning. Everything about life is a game. You should know that by now."  
  
"What I know is that you're going to spend the rest of your life in a straight jacket."  
  
Harley rolled her eyes. "Be a little more ambitious than that Barbara. Come on, kill me. Choose to kill me. You know it'll make you feel better."  
  
"I'm not you," Barbara shot back just before she snapped off a hard kick to Harley's midsection. The former therapist dropped to her knees and looked up. Barbara pressed her foot against the woman's throat.  
  
"But you wish you were," Harley smirked. She put her hand up and grabbed Barbara's ankle, twisting it hard. Barbara cried out and fell back. Harley jumped to her feet. "What's wrong? You shouldn't be feeling that anyway." She pulled her leg back to deliver a kick to Barbara's gut but the redhead spun, just barely avoiding the blow.  
  
She jumped to her feet, hissing in pain as the transponder sizzled against her back. A voice in her head screamed out something about permanent irreversible damage but she ignored it, instead choosing to settle herself back into a combative posture. "Okay Harley, let's get this done."  
  
"This?" Harley asked, grinning. "Are you about to go all macho bullish on me? You know Barbara Gordon, you weren't really my type but if you're about to show me attitude instead of the whole save the children shtick, I may have to reconsider."  
  
"That's too bad," Barbara said, slapping Harley away. "I usually don't fuck psychos."  
  
"I heard that before. From Helena. How interesting, Is there more to this? Harley asked mildly, punching back and connecting with the left side of Barbara's jaw.  
  
Barbara just smiled, almost wickedly. "I'm not your patient, Dr. Quinzell and I don't care what you find interesting. I just want you..."  
  
"Dead right? Come on, admit it." Then she shook her head. "Oh but no, Barbara Gordon doesn't kill." She laughed. "But I do."  
  
She slipped her hand into her belt and pulled out a knife. She licked the side of it and then pointed it at Barbara. "Tastes like Helena."  
  
Barbara just stared back at her enemy, almost passively. She fingered the batarang on her belt and started to move forward.

------------------------  
  
He touched the side of her face with the wet cloth, feeling the heat jerk upwards from her. Her skin was pale and ashen and she was sweating heavily. The bruises and cuts on her were greenish in tint and there were ugly red circles beneath her eyes.  
  
"Not much a prom queen tonight," Helena murmured, smiling a bit at his reaction. He knew enough to know that he had barely shown anything but that hardly mattered. She saw everything.  
  
He cupped her cheek. "You look beautiful as always Miss Helena."  
  
"Liar," Helena coughed. She touched her chest. "I look like an extra from Night of the Living Dead."  
  
"I always knew letting you watch those movies when you were a small child would come back to haunt me," he laughed, the sound mirthless. He was trying though and she was thankful. Just the same she could see the terrible heartbreaking sadness in his old eyes.  
  
She reached out and took his hand, encasing it in her own. He bent forward and brushed a light kiss against her feverish forehead. She smiled at him. Her eyelids flickered and she dozed off again, her chest rumbling painfully as it rose and then fell.  
  
He watched the rhythm for several moments, entranced by it. "Alfred?"  
  
He turned slowly, taking in the small blonde who was leaning heavily against her crutches. He felt for the girl, he could see the frustration in her eyes. Because of an injury that Helena had caused to her during a drunken rage, she was unable to now help her friend.  
  
It all really did come around in the long run.  
  
"It's been over an hour," she said softly. "I'm worried. What if..."  
  
"We mustn't think that," he insisted, touching her shoulder. "I'm going to make you some tea..."  
  
"I don't..."  
  
"I assure you that you do want tea," he said firmly.  
  
She scowled. "What is this? Like mafia tea? Like I'll chop off a finger for every sip of the Earl you don't drink?"  
  
Alfred cocked his head to the side, almost like he was considering her words. He smiled slightly. "That's not a bad idea. Perhaps I could..."  
  
"Alfred!" Dinah laughed, slapping his arm.  
  
He smiled at her, not unkindly. "Yes Miss Dinah?"  
  
"You're terrible."  
  
"So tea it is?"  
  
"Do I get to keep my fingers?"  
  
"Will you be drinking the tea?"  
  
She laughed. "Guess so."  
  
"Very well. You may keep your fingers."

--------------------------------------  
  
Reese clutched at his side, feeling blood slip against the skin of his digits. The front of his gray tee was already soaked in the sticky crimson fluid but he continued to push himself, unwilling to stop.  
  
"You must be Torch," Reese said softly, turning to face the tattooed thug behind him. He glanced over the mans' shoulder and saw Gibson fending off a few hoods who were trying to defeat the young bartender with really bad karate moves probably learned from watching the Matrix too many times.  
  
"I must be. Figured you for dead, Detective," Torch grinned, holding a gun out in front of him. Reese sighed. They were both pointing weapons at each other and it was an almost silly absurd visual.  
  
"Yeah well, shit happens," Reese replied. He ran his finger over the metal trigger, feeling a surge of heat rush up through him. He always felt like he was about to have a panic attack when he was in any kind of weapon standoff. It wasn't an overly pleasant feeling.  
  
"To your girl I hear," Torch laughed. "Have to admit bro, killer rack. Body to die for."  
  
"Shut up," Reese growled, eyes dilating.  
  
"What's wrong? A bit sensitive? Big bad boyfriend can't save the tiny sweet girl. Aw. So tragic."  
  
"It's about to be," Reese replied. "Drop your weapon and get down on the ground."  
  
"Fuck you," Torch laughed. "Do you know what she tasted like?"  
  
Reese squeezed the trigger and the gun sang out in his palms as it exploded. The bullet ripped through the air and slammed in the thug's left knee. Reese moved to stand above him. He pointed the gun down at him, touching the barrel to the crown of his head. "No. Tell me."

-----------------------------  
  
The blonde woman stood above her foe, wearing an almost triumphant smile on her twisted facial features. The batarang lay on the ground a few feet away, covered in red dust and a little blood. Harley's shoulder was ripped open, exposing torn muscle and severed flesh. Still, she appeared to be on the winning side of the coin so far. Barbara lay in the dirt, nose gushing blood and her left eye half-swollen shut. Harley held a metal baton high above her head. "I think this session went well Barbara Gordon. Unfortunately I must inform you that your time has expired and I've decided to terminate you as a client."  
  
She started to bring down the baton but stopped when she heard the crack of gunfire. She glanced up, just briefly, barely moving her head. It was enough.  
  
Barbara reached out and grabbed the woman's ankle, snatching hard at the exposed heal. She yanked it forward and Harley crashed to the ground, shouting in pain as the bone cracked under her. She used her good arm to reach out for the cracked ankle.  
  
"Bitch," she hissed.  
  
Barbara stood up, electricity sparking in the air. Idly she wondered if she was a fire hazard. She reached down and picked up the metal baton. She slammed it up against Harley's throat. "No more games."  
  
"Fine," Harley sighed. "No more games. How droll. How sad." She glanced up towards the hills and saw two men racing down the sand dunes. She couldn't quite make them out. "Ask me your questions."  
  
"I don't have any questions. I don't give a rat's ass about you Harley. I just want the cure."  
  
Harley started to laugh. Barbara shoved the baton harder against her throat but it just seemed to make the crazed woman giggle more.  
  
"Barbara," Reese called out from behind them. She turned slightly.  
  
"What are you doing here, Reese? You should be in bed."  
  
Harley frowned. "You should be dead."  
  
"Time to take her in," Reese said stepping around to the front of Harley. Barbara put out her arm.  
  
"Not until I get the cure. Then you can drop her off a cliff for all I care."  
  
Harley laughed again.  
  
"What's the hell are you laughing about?"  
  
"I'm laughing at you Barbara Gordon. Tell me something, what if I told you that the only way to get the cure for pure sweet unworthy Helena would be for you to give me your life, what would you do?"  
  
"It's yours," Barbara said without hesitation.  
  
Harley smiled. "Oh I like that."  
  
"Barbara," Gibson said coming up on her other side. "Helena..."  
  
"Yes, Helena," Harley laughed. "How much all of you would die for her. Kill for her. Die for her."  
  
Barbara held an arm out to stop Gibson's approach. "Whatever you want Harley, I want this over...you want me to lay down my life...I'll do it, just give me the cure."  
  
"I thought you were smarter than that," Harley said with a slight almost sympathetic smile. "It's too bad really. Too bad that this has to end. I didn't realize just how open you really are. It's a shame you never came to me as an actual client."  
  
Barbara dropped her head, the energy flowing away from her. "Please Harley, the cure."  
  
"Help me up, Detective," Harley said with a smile. She allowed Reese to lift her up into his arms. Being that one of her arms was hanging rather uselessly at her side, shredded nearly to the bone, he cuffed her good arm behind her back and to her belt. "There is no cure Barbara Gordon."  
  
Barbara blinked. "What?"  
  
"There is no cure. One was never invented. Helena will die. But this was fun now wasn't it?"  
  
Gibson reached out for Barbara's arm but was far too slow. She push forward and slammed into Reese, knocking the blonde from his arms. And then she started to hit.  
  
"Barbara!" Reese called out, grabbing at her arms. She shoved back at him, the heel of her fist slamming directly into the wound in the middle of his gut. He gasped and dropped to a knee.  
  
"Oracle," Gibson implored. She paid him no attention, instead continuing to punch away at the blonde who was putting up no defense. Barbara was babbling senselessly, cursing incoherently and weeping endlessly.  
  
"Gibson," Reese gasped, indicating towards the metal baton on the ground. "Stop her. She doesn't want to do this."  
  
Gibson nodded. "I won't hit her." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black disc. Moving behind Barbara and her swinging limbs, he pressed the object against the now exposed metal of the transponder. It sparked, hissed and then let out a stream of odd colored and badly smelling smoke.  
  
Barbara cried out in pain as her legs and lower body fell out from under her. She curled herself into a ball and fell over. Gibson dropped the disk and went to her, wrapping an arm around her shaking frame. He looked back at Reese. "Take that bitch in. I'll handle Barbara."  
  
"Will do. What are you going to do?"  
  
"Get her home to Helena. She should be there."  
  
"Right," Reese replied, deep sadness in his tone. "I'll be there shortly." He stood up and grabbed at Harley, who looked like she'd been dropped from a hundred foot bridge. "Come on Dr. Quinzell. You and I have a few things to discuss."  
  
He picked her and carried up to the dunes, towards his car. Gibson watched them for a few moments and then turned back to Barbara who was staring down at the broken transponder. She swallowed hard. "No cure."  
  
"Helena needs you."  
  
"I can't..."  
  
"You can," Gibson said. He offered her his arms and she let him lift her. "It's where you belong. It's where we belong. It's where she'd want us to be."  
  
"I failed her," Barbara said softly.  
  
Gibson just looked back at her, not saying a word. Not because he agreed, that certainly wasn't true, but rather because he knew better. Nothing he could say would stop the guilt and pain. It was all just a sick dance.  
  
And it was time to go home and face the music.


	22. Nowhere land

The small blonde glanced up when she heard the sound of the elevator whirling. She steeled her jaw, her nails biting savagely into the pads of her crutches.  
  
"Calm Ms Dinah," Alfred urged, his hand reaching out to slightly squeeze the ubbling girls' left shoulder. For a young woman on crutches, she was practically hopping. He shared her wild urgency but knew that he needed to maintain some semblance of control.  
  
"Barbara," Dinah called out, ignoring the elderly butler. She started to move towards the elevator as the doors parted, her crutches thumping heavily against the floor as she moved.  
  
The exhausted redhead closed her eyes as she saw the younger woman approaching with so much hope and enthusiasm. "Dinah," she said, holding out a hand. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry?" the girl blinked. "What? Why?"  
  
"Reese, put me down," Barbara said softly, glancing up at the tall handsome man who was holding her against his chest. Dinah blinked, realizing with a belated sense of awkwardness that her mentor had been carried into the room as opposed to entering it of her own free will. A glance towards Gibson confirmed her suspicions; he was holding the damaged and still smoking transponder in his hands. He placed it on the table and moved away from it, almost like it was diseased.  
  
Reese grunted a bit but did as he was asked, settling Barbara down into a chair next to the Delphi system. She shifted slightly and touched his hand to show her gratitude. "You're bleeding, have Alfred clean you up."  
  
"I'm fine," he stated plainly.  
  
She snorted angrily, her temper suddenly flaring up. "You're an idiot."  
  
He blinked. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Look at yourself Reese. Just look."  
  
He glanced down at his chest and saw that there was a large and growing spot of red in the middle of his chest. Dinah had yanked him out of his coma with a mental nudge but she had done nothing to repair the damage that the knife to the ribs had done to him. He was still hurt and badly. He touched his thumb to his shirt and involuntarily, almost as if finally realizing just how much pain he was actually in, he hissed.  
  
"Master Reese," Alfred said gently, taking his arm and leading him to a chair. "Your shirt? Take it off."  
  
The young detective did as he was told, stripping away the soiled shirt but still staring blankly back. His clarity of just a few minutes previous now seemed hopelessly forgotten as a fog settled over him. He nearly collapsed under the emotional and physical drain of it but somehow managed to keep himself upright.  
  
"Barbara? Gibson?" Dinah asked, shaking her head. "I don't understand, what's going on?" She looked away from Reese who appeared to be in good hands, despite his wounds.  
  
"There's no cure Dinah. It was all a hoax. One more game by Harley," Barbara said dully, glancing down at her hands. "All we have left is Helena."  
  
"What...I..."  
  
Gibson frowned, "What are you saying Barbara?"  
  
"Madness probably," the redhead admitted. "I've been thinking about it since we left Harley at the police station. I kept trying to figure it out, figure a way around this. There isn't one though."  
  
"Barbara..."  
  
"We have to accept the hand we were given," the superhero known as Oracle grit out between tightly clenched teeth. "There is no cure. There is no white knight riding to the rescue with a last minute vaccine and there's no time to find one. There's only Helena."  
  
"I still don't understand," Dinah insisted. "What can Helena do?"  
  
Barbara smiled slightly, sadly. "She can fight. Her body is still strong, she has the most poignant healing factor that I've ever seen in a meta, she can beat this if she wants to. I believe that."  
  
"But?" Gibson asked, dreading the answer. He glanced over his shoulder, towards the med lab.  
  
"But that means she has to fight to live and I don't know if she believes she has the right to..."  
  
"Barbara," Dinah started, her voice high and panicked.  
  
Barbara held up a hand. "You know I agree with you, Dinah. You know I do. Ultimately though, it doesn't matter. None of it matters. She has so much guilt over Wade and everything in general. She's been living on fumes for weeks. You know it and I know it. This isn't even about us anymore. It's about her. It's about Helena forgiving herself. If she can do that, she'll make it. If she can't..."

--------------

She stopped, nearly gagging on her words. She rubbed at her eyes, brushing away just forming tears. "All we can do now is wait."  
  
"This isn't where I expected you to be," he said dryly as he came up from behind her.  
  
"Oh really?" she drawled. "What were you expecting?"  
  
"Not sure," he admitted with a laugh. "Just not sun and surf."  
  
She turned and faced him, wearing a slightly bemused smile. "Death really does warp you, there's no sun out here. And sure as hell no honey surfers."  
  
He glanced out, his eyes taking in what appeared to be miles of sandy beaches surrounded by bright blue water and capped off with a brilliantly shining sun set high over the clear sky. "Strange."  
  
"Yeah well so is meeting you in the middle of the night in the desert," Helena quipped, gazing at the dusty dry landscape spread out in front of her. It was hopelessly desolate. "But then again you're not really Wade now are you? I mean in a few seconds you'll get a sudden fingernail injection and suddenly become Harley."  
  
"That sounds like more than a nail injection," Wade Brixton laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt a soft breeze nip his cheek. A look towards her indicated that she wasn't feeling the same drift of cool air. "Frankly it sounds kind of frightening. I'd just assume stay a man if it's okay with you."  
  
"Fine with me." Helena said, leaning back against a boulder. "So my father then?"  
  
"Yeah, you have daddy issues. Barbara told me that."  
  
"Great," Helena laughed. "Now even my mental demons are mocking my daddy issues."  
  
Wade moved around to her side. "Well something tells me that if you don't deal with our issues, you won't really have to worry about daddy."  
  
She looked up at him and blinked. "Excuse me?"  
  
"We're in two different places Helena," Wade stated. He spread his arms. "From where I'm standing I see nothing but coastline. It's gorgeous."  
  
"You're dead Wade," Helena replied shortly. "From where you are there's nothing but dirt and maggots. You don't have eye sockets anymore."  
  
He made a face. "I really hope I haven't been mangled so badly so quickly. That's kinda gross."  
  
"Great," Helena chuckled. "Dead guys with gallows humor."  
  
"Would it really be gallows humor if I'm already dead?" Wade asked with a slight frown. "You know what? I don't know. I'll have to ask one of the smart guys up there."  
  
"You mean the ones flying around with wings glued to their asses?" Helena shot back, eyes locked on a strange looking beast that was pawing at the ground a few feet from her. It looked up at her with bright yellow eyes and stared back hard at her. After a moment it returned to it's previous actions. Apparently even it wasn't all that interested in her.  
  
"Not really glued to their asses," Wade responded. "But close enough."  
  
"Okay, are we done with this? Are you done having fun? Because I have to admit, this is a new dance. I was expecting Slick or Cam again but not you and not some lame fairytale about beaches and angels."  
  
"Not a fairytale," Wade corrected. "A different place maybe but no less real. As for angels...I'm not one. Just a friend."  
  
"We were never friends."  
  
"We could have been. Just didn't work out that way."  
  
"Ya lost me," she said, blinking a few times. She yawned, exhaustion settling on her. She wondered idly if she could just close her eyes for a few minutes, get some sleep. Just a bit.  
  
"Don't," he said, his voice raising a bit with urgency. "Don't close your eyes Helena."  
  
"And why not?" she asked, glancing up at him.  
  
"Because you won't wake up," he admitted, swallowing hard.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about? This is just a dream Wade. We've done this dance a thousand times and now you're getting all dramatic on me?"  
  
He shook this head. "This isn't a dance Helena, this is the last call. Lights are about to go off unless you put a new record on."  
  
"So the shop will open up again tomorrow night," she said softly, blue eyes widening with just a bit of fear. Her voice trembled but she held her composure.  
  
"Not this time," Wade replied. "This is it. This is the fork in the road Helena. Tonight you make your choice."  
  
"My choice?"  
  
He smiled slightly, not unkindly but without humor. "Yeah. You choose whether or not you want to keep fighting and return to your family or if you're ready to lay down your sword and rest. It's your choice."  
  
"Beach or rocks," she mumbled to herself.  
  
He nodded. "Now you're getting it."

---------------

"Miss Barbara?" Alfred said as he entered her bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, water dripping down her shoulders. The shower had refreshed her body but not her soul. She felt more tired than she had in a very long time.  
  
"Alfred," she welcomed with a small smile. "Tea?"  
  
"Of course," he replied, offering her a steaming mug. She took it from him and pressed her hands against the warm ceramic. "You don't look well."  
  
"I don't feel well. We may have beat her down but Harley kicked my ass."  
  
"Isn't this a kind of you should see the other guy then thing?" Alfred asked. "I presume Miss Harley is not in the best of shape?"  
  
"True," she admitted. She patted the bed beside her. "Sit down with me for a moment. Don't be my butler, be my friend."  
  
"I would hope that I have always been that," he answered.  
  
"You have," Barbara confirmed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."  
  
"Don't think of it," he reassured her. He settled next to her on the bed. "Are you doing okay?"  
  
"No," Barbara admitted. "I shouldn't have done that."  
  
"Done what?"  
  
"Given Dinah hope." She shook her head and snorted derisively. "Given myself hope."  
  
"You mean about Miss Helena."  
  
"Of course. We have no proof that Helena even can fight her way through this. There are strong people out there who can't beat back cancer. Sometimes that's just how it is. I'm a fool."  
  
"Having hope is not foolish," Alfred corrected her,  
  
"No but there is no hope here. She has a disease that we know next to nothing about except that it kills metas with quick and devastating speed. What chance does Helena have? It always kills."  
  
"You mentioned cancer before, yes?"  
  
Barbara nodded.  
  
"In some ways an undefeatable enemy."  
  
"Not the same thing. There are treatments; there are weapons we can use. We don't have anything besides Helena's immune system, her healing factor and her mind. The first two work in our favor but the third one knocks us completely out of contention."  
  
"I didn't realize you had so little faith in her," Alfred said with a slight frown.  
  
"It's not about faith..."  
  
"Isn't it?" he asked. "Most diseases that we can now fight started out as unbeatable. Sometimes it only takes one person surviving it to create a cure."  
  
"Antibodies," Barbara murmured. "But that doesn't help us unless Hel is the one to survive it and how she is right now...I just..."  
  
"You must believe," he insisted.  
  
"Alfred, I'm a man of science." She frowned. "Well a woman anyway."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Faith doesn't mean much in my profession. I looked over the scans, I studied the blood screens. Helena is going to die and there is nothing any of us can do about it except wait for it."  
  
"I don't believe that and I don't think you do either."  
  
"You think you know me so well?"  
  
"Don't I?" he asked with a small smile. "You never would have even suggested it as an option unless you believed that there was a possibility that Helena could fight her way through. Don't even bother trying to explain that away; as you yourself said, you're a woman of science. You based that conclusion on her metahuman abilities, correct?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
'Now I'm asking you to base her survival on your faith in her which I know you have." He placed a thumb under her chin and lifted up her head. "Preparing yourself for her death won't make it easier. Pulling back and closing yourself off won't help if she passes on. That's not how it works. You can't change how you feel about her. And you can't stop yourself from believing in her just to protect yourself."  
  
"But I need to," Barbara mumbled weakly, looking down. "I can't...Alfred...I can't...."  
  
"Have faith. Perhaps scientists and technical wizards don't have much use for it but superheroes certainly do."  
  
She looked up at him and nodded slowly, not knowing what else to say. After a long moment she finally placed her head on his shoulder and leaned in towards him. He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair.  
  
"It's all I have left," she finally whispered, tears streaking down her face.  
  
He closed his eyes. "Then that will have to be enough."  
  
---------------

"This is weird," Helena mumbled as she stood up and started to walk next to the former teacher. "You know that right?"  
  
"I'm aware. It's called irony."  
  
"Barbara's the English teacher," Helena commented dryly.  
  
"Was that strange for you? Having your teacher become your mother?"  
  
"She's not my mother," Helena replied, glancing towards the rocks. On the face of one of the large flat ones she could see her mothers' murder playing out as if it was being projected on to a movie screen.  
  
Wade turned and frowned. "You keep living in the past."  
  
"Sometimes the past is all we have," she answered.  
  
"And sometimes it becomes a prison."  
  
"Sometimes we don't deserve better. Do you know how many times I've wondered if maybe I belonged in prison? Locked away like one of those freaky fucks I'm always fighting?"  
  
"Probably every day," he mused.  
  
"Yeah," she said with a slight nod. "Every day. That's my world. Wake up and wonder if I'm one of the good guys or if Barbara and Dinah should actually be hunting me."  
  
"And what do you think?"  
  
"What is this? A therapy session?" Helena asked with annoyance. "Because really, I've just about had my fill of it."  
  
He laughed. "Yeah no offense but I'm not the biggest fan in the world of your former shrink."  
  
"No shit," Helena cracked. Then she shook her head. "Honestly Wade, I don't know. There are so many things I don't understand."  
  
"I don't think you're meant to get everything," he said with a shrug. "That 's life. You're what? Twenty-three?"  
  
"Hey, no fair knowing my age," she quipped, eyes not quite meeting his.  
  
"One of the perks of the job," he laughed. "I even actually know Barbara's real one."  
  
Helena made a noise that sounded almost choked. "Yeah, the line that just went through my head, not funny."  
  
"You were about to say she'd kill me if she knew that?" he asked. He touched her arm. "You gotta let it go."  
  
"Why? Are you about to tell me that you're in a better place?"  
  
"Better? No. I don't know," he admitted.  
  
"See? How am I supposed to let go when..."  
  
"Don't use me as an excuse," he cut in. "Look, I'm not saying this is what I wanted. If I had my choice I'd be lying in Barbara's arms right about now." He stopped and frowned. "Hey, look at me. Look at me Helena." She looked up at him, their eyes locking. "Them are the breaks. We can't change that now but we can still make a difference for her. You and I."  
  
"And just what are you proposing Mr. Brixton?"  
  
"Well for one, we stop walking through the minefield that is your memories. You've got to stop using them as a crutch to explain your pain. Sometimes it's okay just to be angry and to be hurt. You don't need to keep explaining yourself to anyone. Not even Barbara."  
  
"I don't understand..."  
  
Wade turned to her. "Look around us. On every rock there's some slideshow playing. Your life I guess, only it's the edited down version. The nasty cuts."  
  
Helena shrugged. "Don't tend to dwell on the romantic rendezvous too often."  
  
"And why the hell not?"  
  
"Because they always end up on my nasty cuts list too," she said quietly.  
  
"Reese?"  
  
"Reese."  
  
"Damn you girl, you really do make everyone break the rules don't you?"  
  
She snorted loudly. "Excuse me? You're joking right? From what Barbara told me about you, you never broke any rules."  
  
"And I guess I'll wish for the rest of eternity that I had. And in the end I took one big risk after I found out the truth about Barbara."  
  
"And look where it got you. Guess that didn't work out so well for ya, huh?"  
  
"Not really," he laughed. "But I don't regret it."  
  
"You're full of shit."  
  
"I'd prefer not to be if it's just the same to you."  
  
She chuckled. "Did you have this sense of humor when you were alive?"  
  
"Nope," he said with a shake of his head. "Just magically appeared the moment I kicked the bucket."  
  
"Cute. So tell me, why didn't they send Reese to see me? I mean...oh I get it, they figured seeing him would do me in..."  
  
"Things aren't what you think with Reese and I'm really not allowed to say more."  
  
"Right. Gotcha. Cryptic dead guy. My new favorite thing."  
  
He chose to ignore her and move on. "So hey, what's that one over there?" he asked, pointing at one of the movie rocks.  
  
She made a face. "A very bad night."  
  
"You look young."  
  
"I look old now?"  
  
Wade laughed. "Vanity when trying to decide whether to live or die is kinda weird don't ya think?"  
  
"Yeah probably and I was seventeen. That was about five months after my mom died."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I almost died that night," she whispered. "I just wanted to not feel anything. I wanted to hide. Everything hurt so damn much. It was suffocating. I went to a party and some guy there gave me something to numb it all out. Almost worked too well."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Gibson didn't listen to me," she laughed. "I told him not to follow me to the party. To back off and give me space. He didn't. I don't remember much of that night besides him keeping me walking around and making me shower to keep me awake until Barbara arrived. He saved my life. They both did."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"I don't understand the question."  
  
"Is this really where you want to be after all of that? After all the things you've battled and beaten? Do you really want to give in?"  
  
"Hey I got a question for you," she demanded. "You're like the angel on my shoulder so where's my devil dude?"  
  
'Kind of redundant with you isn't it?"  
  
She grimaced. "Yeah, probably true."  
  
"So, you didn't answer the question. Is this what it's all going to come down to? I mean what happened after the overdose?"  
  
"I wanted to stop dying," she said softly, looking back at the rock with her mother on it. "I wanted to live.. I wanted to find out who took my mother from me. I wanted him to pay."  
  
"You wanted to fight," he said. It was a statement not a question.  
  
"Yeah. I guess so," she confirmed. "Yeah, I wanted to fight back."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"That's the second time you've asked that."  
  
"I'm still waiting for an answer."  
  
Helena turned to one of the rocks. On the face of it was an image of Barbara folded up on her bed, cloaked in a beautiful black dress and clutching a stuffed animal to her chest. She was sobbing like a small child. From the back of the image she could see a vision of herself reaching out for her mentor and then turning and running. It was from the day of Wade's funeral.  
  
"I don't want her to hurt. I don't want to keep letting her down."  
  
"The only way you let her down is if you let down," Wade assured her. "She loves you."  
  
"She saved me."  
  
"And you saved her."  
  
They continued to walk in silence for several moments, he watching her thoughtfully while she continued staring intently at the ground. Every now and again her eyes lifted and she took in one of the picture rocks. After a few minutes however, less of them began to appear until finally they were gone altogether.  
  
Helena blinked and looked around. "Where are we?"  
  
"Hm? Oh," he said with a slight smile. "The actual fork. Not so metaphorical anymore."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Yes you do," he replied. He stepped back and made a sweeping gesture. What formed behind him was an insane mixture of water and rock. After a few moments it separated so that the liquid was clearly on one side and the solid was on the other.  
  
"You're...walking on water?" Helena asked with an incredulous stare. She gazed over at the former teacher who was standing with one foot on each side. "That's just creepy."  
  
"Not exactly," he grinned. "But it is kind of cool you have to admit."  
  
"I'll stick with creepy, thanks. No wait, lemme guess...the water represents me living and the rock is me dying and wandering the spirit world through eternity?"  
  
"Well that's kind of depressing. Look, there's no defeat either way. Look behind you."  
  
She turned towards the desert and saw a strange swirling vortex. "What is that?"  
  
"The notorious white light. You can walk in to it and you know what, eventually you'll even be happy. You'll learn to adjust and go with it. You might even let go." He shook his head. "The other way means going back to the fight and struggling, fighting with your inner demons."  
  
"So what's the upside?"  
  
"It means fighting and I believe that's what you are. A fighter."  
  
"Am I weak if I let go?"  
  
"No. Just tired."  
  
"You're not allowed to push me towards a decision are you?"  
  
"Only give you as much as guidance as I can."  
  
"And who up there is fighting so hard for me that they sent someone to talk me into living?"  
  
"Doesn't really matter now does it?" Wade said with a laugh. "But you do have someone who is willing to take on just about everyone to make sure she doesn't meet up with you up there anytime soon."  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Hm? Did you say something?"  
  
Helena made a face. "Cute. Did you learn that from your third graders?"  
  
"I taught freshman thank you. Okay so yeah, third graders."  
  
"Right. So choice time huh?"  
  
"Yeah. One way or the other. I won't claim don there in the water will be easy but maybe being up here watching isn't easier." He took a deep breath and gazed up at the sky. "And I might get my ass kicked for saying this but what the hell..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You've got someone upstairs fighting for you but you also have someone still living and breathing who would die for you."  
  
"That's just it, I don't want her to die for me. I don't want anyone else to die for me."  
  
"Not your choice to make."  
  
Helena nodded slowly. "I don't know what to do."  
  
"Yes you do."  
  
"Fight?"  
  
"It's who you are."  
  
"You're really not so good at this not pressuring thing."  
  
"Teacher never listen," Wade grinned. "It's our thing. We see potential where others don't."  
  
Helena glanced over her shoulder towards the spinning portal. She looked at it thoughtfully for a long moment and then turned away from it and moved towards the water.  
  
"Gonna be a hell of a swim up huh?"  
  
"Yeah. Might even hurt a bit. You'll make it."  
  
"You know I don't hug right?"  
  
"That's bullshit but okay. Do me a favor though..."  
  
"I promise," she stated firmly, locking eyes with him. "As much as I can."  
  
"Yeah," he said almost sadly. "I love her."  
  
"I know. She does too."  
  
"Good."  
  
She took a deep breath and then stepped into the water. She was about to dive into it when she stopped and turned back to him. "Hey do you get your wings for this?"  
  
"Yep," he grinned. "I'm on my way up to the superglue factory so they can stick 'em right on my ass."  
  
Helena laughed. "Right. Wish me luck then."  
  
"You have it."  
  
She leapt towards the water, took another breath and then stayed bobbing on the surface of the water for a few seconds. He watched her for a moment. He turned back towards the portal and started to walk towards it. "Can she do it?" he asked the air.  
  
There was a soft chuckle and then a decidedly female voice replied, "Of course she can. It's who she is. She's a Kyle. She's a fighter."  
  
"Time to let go," he said with a sigh. He glanced back at the water.  
  
"It will get easier," she promised him. "It will."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No," she finally admitted. "But you deal."  
  
"Okay," he said. "Time to go home."  
  
"Yep," she laughed deviously. "I called ahead to the glue factory. They're all ready for you."  
  
He laughed as he stepped through the portal. The light swirled and consumed him. After a few moments the doorway closed.  
  
Out in the middle of the water Helena steeled herself, her blue eyes setting with determination. "Coming home," she mumbled. And then with the grace of a dolphin she spun around and dove beneath the brilliant blue waves, starting her journey home.


	23. Conclusion

"Coffee?" Gibson offered as he entered the med lab. She was sitting over her young protégé's unconscious body, leaning forward in her chair with her hands folded over her nose and mouth and her thumbs pressing upwards against her chin. Her red hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail that nonetheless made her look quite beautiful in it's simplicity.  
  
"Thanks," Barbara replied, reaching out to take the warm mug. She encased it with two slender if not slightly trembling hands. She sipped it and smiled. "French vanilla."  
  
"Everyone likes vanilla," Gibson answered meekly. He pulled up a chair and seated himself next to Barbara. "Crazy days."  
  
"Something like that," she laughed. She took a hand off the cup and reached forward to stroke Helena's face. With her thumb she brushed a stray tendril of sweaty black hair away from the girls' ashen forehead. She glanced over at the monitors and was relieved to see them holding steady. She wondered idly if it was folly to hope that Helena was fighting.  
  
"We don't have much of a choice," he offered up suddenly.  
  
"Hm?" she asked, turning to look at him with her brow lifted.  
  
"She doesn't give a choice. We know we shouldn't believe that she'll make it through this but we do. We just do."  
  
"Sometimes I don't know why," Barbara admitted. "Helena's strong but even she is still human and can only be as strong as her body and mind allow her to be. Then again, you're right, we still...have faith I guess."  
  
"And you should," a very groggy voice said the bed. Barbara snapped around, eyes suddenly wide and blazing. "Because I always win eventually. Even if someone has to kick me in the ass first to get there."  
  
"Helena?" she gasped. She looked down at the young girl and was shocked to see her bloodshot blues staring back at her, oddly aware.  
  
"A bit wet but here," Helena said. She coughed a couple times, like she was trying to clear her throat and lungs of water. She lifted her arms up and groaned. "Why am I chained down?"  
  
Barbara smiled slightly. She wheeled herself closer to her brunette protégé and placed the flat of her slightly trembling palm against the girls' feverish forehead. "Still warm." She murmured.  
  
"Did you expect me to be instantly better?" Helena said with her lip quirked in amusement. She looked exhausted but somehow in an oddly good mood considering all she'd been through. "I'm a fast healer but come on Gordon, cut me some slack."  
  
Barbara laughed, feeling some of the tension bleed away from her shoulders and in fact her body as a whole. She took her hand off of Helena and turned to Gibson who watching the scene with a look of amazement. That confirmed her suspicions; while he'd been hoping and praying that Helena would find a way to pull through it; he hadn't believed that she would anymore than anyone else had.  
  
Anyone that wasn't Alfred Pennyworth that was.  
  
"Gibson," Barbara said softly, mindful of alarming him. He seemed almost like he was in a trance, barely moving or breathing, eyes locked on Helena. She knew however that he could see and hear everything going on around him so she decided to continue even without him first acknowledging her. "Get me some water. Get Dinah."  
  
"Dinah?" he said, blinking three times in rapid succession.  
  
She touched his shoulder. "Get me some water first."  
  
"Right," he drawled.  
  
Helena laughed. "Gibson, I'm okay but the water thing, I'm all about that." She wrinkled her nose. "Which is weird because I just came from water."  
  
"What? Water?" Gibson asked, lifting his head up. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Can someone first unchain me?" Helena begged, glaring over at the binds that were strapped to her wrists. She moved a bit in them, listening to the soft but annoying jingle.  
  
Barbara wheeled back to her and started to release the chains. They had been put there to prevent Helena from hurting anyone when she had been in her delusional state due to the poison in her blood. "What do you mean by you were just in water?"  
  
"Swam upstream right?" Helena asked, suddenly unable to meet her mentor's green eyes. She looked over to where Gibson was standing, next to the sink. His hands were shaking and it was taking him longer than usual to fill a faded green glass with the clear liquid. She wanted to go over to him and put her hands over his to steady him but she rather guessed that her legs weren't quite ready to support her weight just yet. She moved forward a bit on the bed and heard several of her joints crack and then pop. "Dammit."  
  
"Easy, you're probably very stiff," Barbara commented, eyes narrowed as she studied the read-outs flashing across one of her flat panel displays.  
  
"You think?" Helena said lightly. She smiled when she saw Gibson approach her. He held out the glass and she reached for it, taking it with one hand and sliding the other one over his to give him a slight squeeze. He opened his mouth as if to ask what that had been for and then just nodded, understanding.  
  
"I'll get Reese and Dinah," Gibson said as he stepped back. Before he could even turn so much as an inch Helena tightened her hold on his hand and jerked him backwards, causing the boy to crash into the bed. He hissed in pain as his knee crashed against the cold metal. He looked down and wasn't at all surprised to see that his khakis were torn and the cloth was already stained red. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked softly, not willing to actually utter the first ten phrases that had raced through his mind.  
  
"Reese?" she demanded gruffly. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"He's alive Hel," Barbara said, moving quickly to get between the two friends. She wasn't expecting any kind of physical contact but Gibson looked flustered and Helena impatient, which was always a volatile combination. "He survived what Harley did to him. He's alive."  
  
The look that passed over Helena's face was near to indiscernible. Or at least to Barbara. At first it looked like raw delight and glee but that quickly gave way to some type of stabbing pain and then something that looked like uncertainty. It was clear that she didn't know how she was supposed to react.  
  
Barbara swallowed hard. "Go ahead Gibson." He nodded and quickly exited the library. She turned back to her young protégé. "It's okay to be relieved Helena. You should be. I am. Reese dying wouldn't have made me feel better about Wade dying."  
  
"I know that. I'd never think..."  
  
"Yes you would," Barbara answered quickly. "Because that's how you think it works. I don't mean that as harshly as it sounds but you've always thought that you should be punished for everything and..."  
  
"It's okay," Helena said quickly. "Really Barbara, I'm okay. I am."  
  
Barbara clamped her mouth shut, wanting to say more but realizing that her window had just been slammed closed. She felt a stinging pain in her heart; she'd desperately hoped that Helena would finally be willing to talk things out. "Okay," she said finally. "Do you think you can stand up?"  
  
"I'll try. What happened?"  
  
"That poison that was put in your system almost killed you. It was a virus and it's gotten every other meta that it's infected."  
  
"But I fought it back." Helena said with a smirk and a great deal of pride. Her eyes flashed brilliantly and not for the first time Barbara realized just how much the girl looked like her father. Strong and beautiful, dangerous and darkly compelling. "I won," Helena announced triumphantly. "I fucking rock."  
  
"That you do," Barbara admitted with a laugh. She studied her young charge, wanting to say more. She had a feeling that there was more to Helena's victory than simple brute strength but she decided to let it go for now. It would do no good to push.  
  
"Helena," a voice said from the doorway.  
  
She turned and smiled brightly. "Reese."  
  
      

* * *

"You expected more?" Dinah asked as she moved after Barbara. Her crutches clicked heavily against the ground and she was wearing an expression of frustration as she fought to keep up with her mentor who had apparently decided that her electronic wheelchair should double as a stockcar in a track race.  
  
"Excuse me?" Barbara asked as she bent over Delphi and started typing, her fingers flashing furiously over the keyboard.  
  
"You expected her to come out of her coma ready to talk."  
  
Barbara turned and sighed. "That's not Helena. I should have known better."  
  
"Give her time," Dinah said quietly. "You keep giving up on her."  
  
"I don't," Barbara replied, her tone near to urgent but also irritated. "I've stood behind her every step of the way. I have always been there for her."  
  
"And she for you," Dinah commented. She paused for effect and then added softly," Or do you disagree?"  
  
Barbara turned quickly, looking as if she'd been gut-punched. She gaped for a moment like a cut fish, unable to form the proper words. Finally weakly she stammered, "No, no, never."  
  
"I didn't think so and I don't think that this is just typical Helena either. I think something made her choose to fight and it wasn't just good old Huntress stubbornness. I think it was more and so do you," Dinah offered.  
  
"You know I'm supposed to be the adult," Barbara noted. "I'm supposed to be the one guiding you."  
  
"We take turns right?" Dinah chirped, a large smile spreading. She adjusted her arms a bit. "Besides, you shouldn't have to be strong all the time."  
  
Barbara gave her a small wistful smile. "That's no excuse. You're right, I gave up on her."  
  
"No you didn't," Dinah said with a shake of her head. "You just think you did."  
  
And with that she turned and headed towards the kitchen. Barbara watched her go, brow drawn in confusion. She sighed and blew air out. She wondered if she had given up, she wondered what that meant.  
  
She wondered if she could make it right.  
  
     

* * *

"So I guess I have some apologizing to do," he said lightly. He slid an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. "Maybe you should..." he stopped when he saw her glaring at him. "Right, zipping it."  
  
She turned to face him. "Some apologizing? Try groveling. Try going out dancing with me every single night for the next two weeks. And not bitching about it once."  
  
He made a face. Jesse Reese was definitely not a boogie 'til you can't kind of guy. "I don't think you'll be up for dancing for awhile," he said lamely.  
  
"Come on Reese, you know me better than that."  
  
"Uh huh. Dance 'til you drop. Even if it kills you in the process," he commented. He had meant the statement to be wry but found that it actually sounded rather bitter. "I didn't mean it like..."  
  
"Oh stop being such an asshat Reese," Helena laughed. "I know what you meant." "Excuse me? Asshat? What the hell is that? And do I really want to know?"  
  
She winked at him. "Just go with it."  
  
"Right. Got it. Go with it," he said. He glanced down at his hands. "You don't trust me do you?"  
  
She blinked and looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"  
  
He turned around to face the wall, studying a small brown spot on the far wall. It was an odd blemish really, a distortion against the perfection of the nearly flawless white plaster. "Did you ever wonder why I'd say those things to you? Did it ever occur to you that I never would? That when I tell you I love you, I mean it. I mean how many more times do I have to prove my feelings to you?"  
  
She swallowed hard. "It hurt," she finally admitted. "I...I didn't think it would."  
  
He turned and grinned at her, his eyes sparkling a bit. "Is that a confession of feelings Ms. Kyle?"  
  
"You already know I care," she answered quietly, almost shyly.  
  
He nodded. "I do. Am I allowed to ask for more?"  
  
"You can ask," she offered. "But I'm still me, Reese."  
  
"What's that mean exactly?"  
  
"It means slow. Take it slow."  
  
"So is that your way of saying you forgive me?"  
  
She laughed. "Well I guess that there were extenuating circumstances."  
  
Reese took a step towards her. "That's certainly true. I mean I'm not that stupid. You really think I'd insult you from anywhere in the vicinity of you?"  
  
"Hey you got lucky that night," she said, her tone light even if she didn't exactly feel it. She could still rather distinctly recall just how much the words he had said to her had torn through her. He had been under Harley's hypnotic powers but she hadn't known that at the time and those harsh statements were still banging around in her skull.  
  
Reese took another step towards her, sliding one of his large cool hands against her still feverish skin. She whimpered a tiny bet and rubbed her cheek against his palm. He laughed. "I'm sure I did," he said with a devious grin. "I still distinctly recall you slapping the hell out of me."  
  
"I don't slap," Helena laughed. "I never slap. I dropped your ass. So in essence you could say I bitchslapped you."  
  
"Still a slap," he grinned.  
  
"Yeah whatever."  
  
"Yeah, whatever," he repeated, moving even closer. He dropped his head as if to kiss her but she moved her mouth, causing his lips to collide with her cheek. "Okay, what's wrong?"  
  
"Sorry," she murmured. "I just..."  
  
"Helena, talk to me," Reese insisted, sitting down on the bed. "I have no idea what you're thinking right now. You've got to let me catch up once in awhile."  
  
"I know," she said. "I do know. I just...I'm..."  
  
"Scared?"  
  
"No," she answered quickly, too quickly. "I'm not scared."  
  
"Okay," he said with a bit of a half-smirk. "So what's upsetting you then?"  
  
"I didn't say anything was."  
  
"Helena," Reese said, shaking his head in exasperation. "Now you're doing this on purpose."  
  
"You give me far too much power," she laughed.  
  
"Really? You mean to wear someone down in less than three minutes?"  
  
"Three?" she answered weakly. "I'm losing my touch."  
  
"So..."  
  
"This is new for me," she stammered out, not making eye contact.  
  
"Us?" he asked. "We've been together for a few months now."  
  
"Not us," she said with a slight shake of her head. She paused for effect. "Us."  
  
"You mean as a serious couple instead of two hot bedmates?"  
  
She laughed. "Hot bedmates? Good God Reese, where did you come up with that?"  
  
"Are you saying I'm not hot?" he asked innocently.  
  
She shook her head, some of the tension bleeding away. He was working his ass off to lighten her up. It was working. "Well," she teased. "I wouldn't put a bag over your head in public."  
  
"Good to hear. So we then?"  
  
"I guess we're a we," she replied. "You do realize that I'm not gonna make this easy right?"  
  
"I don't think it's supposed to be easy," he answered. "And I can't promise that I'll never hurt you though God I wish I could. I can promise that I will do everything in my power not to."  
  
"And if it ends, you won't..."  
  
"Why don't we not assume it's gonna end, okay?" Reese asked, touching her face. "Always the pessimist huh?"  
  
"Everything good always ends for me," Helena said quietly.  
  
"Then you're not paying attention," he replied. "Look around you Helena. Everything good is right here. Barbara. Dinah. Alfred." He smiled down at her. "Me."  
  
"Oh for God's sake Reese, just kiss me," she laughed. "Before you start kissing yourself."  
  
He opened his mouth as if to protest but before he could get a single word out she had grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, savagely attacking his lips with her own. After several heated moments she finally pulled away. "All better?" he gasped out, knees buckling. He could feel a faint pulsating pain in his chest where the knife wound was but his brain wasn't exactly registering it.  
  
"Getting there," she said with a small smile. She touched his face with her fingers, enjoying the hard jaw lines and the rugged stubble." By the way," she said softly. "What you said earlier about how you feel?"  
  
'Yeah?" he asked, wondering if she'd actually say the words.  
  
"Me too."  
  
He smiled. "Okay." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "So what now?"  
  
"Patience," she said with a grin. "I don't have it so you have to. In the meanwhile, there's something I have to do."  
  
        

* * *

"You know I should really be working on creating a cure from the antibodies in her system. There are others who really need the vaccine. This could help a lot of metas. This could destroy the entire virus" Barbara insisted with a sigh. When she noticed that the elderly butler seemed uninterested in her protestations, she decided to change tracks. "Do you at least know where we're going?" He smiled at her kindly and shook his head. "You're just the driver?"  
  
"Indeed. Miss Helena asked me to bring the car around and to gather you and Miss Dinah."  
  
"You think she's okay to be up and around so soon? I mean just two hours ago we were on a deathwatch. This seems kind of surreal."  
  
"Hardly new," Alfred commented dryly. "As for whether she should still be lying down, absolutely."  
  
"I sense a but..."  
  
"That sounds strange," Dinah said as she came from the kitchen. "Sensing butts? I mean can't you just see them?"  
  
"Dinah," Barbara warned.  
  
"What do you think Gibson? Can you sense a butt?" Dinah asked as she turned to the wavy haired boy who was standing behind her, nursing a can of soda.  
  
He held up his hands and shook his head. "I know that look," he said, indicating towards the deadly gaze Barbara was kicking in their direction. "No way I cross that." He paused. "But no, I've never heard of a meta whose power is was to sense butts."  
  
"Gibson," Barbara said, eyes narrowing.  
  
Dinah snorted. "Oh come on, that's a lame stare. Not even remotely intimidated." She turned and stuck her tongue out at Barbara. "Try something more menacing, like eyebrows arched."  
  
"I'm going to run over you with my wheelchair," Barbara said with a groan.  
  
Dinah made a face. "Well at least that's likely to be slightly less painful than when Helena tried to back over me with the Hummer."  
  
"I recall that," Barbara mused. "It was...funny."  
  
"Yeah, you were laughing," Dinah said dryly. "Laughing at my grievous pain."  
  
"That's because you weren't seriously hurt," Barbara pointed out.  
  
"You didn't know that," Dinah protested. "For all you know every bone in my body could have been crushed."  
  
Barbara shook her head and wrinkled her nose. "Nah, there was no blood."  
  
"And therein lay the golden rule," Helena said as she exited the med lab, Reese's arm wrapped lightly around her waist. "If you ain't bleeding, don't be bitching."  
  
"But the bruises," Dinah muttered. "The bruises."  
  
"Beauty marks," Helena grinned. "Lovely for a date."  
  
"Hey I'll have the two of you know that I got my fair share when I was in the field," Barbara shot back.  
  
"Payback then?" Dinah asked Helena, an eye on her mentor who was trying her hardest to look indignant.  
  
"Yep," Helena said, looking right at Barbara and smirking.  
  
"You two suck," Barbara muttered, shaking her head.  
  
Both Dinah and Helena looked up at her abruptly, seemingly stunned by her choice of words. After a moment they both started laughing. "Nice Gordon, real delicate."  
  
"So Helena, where are we all going?" Barbara asked, curiosity seeping into her tone.  
  
Helena let the smile slide away but her mood appeared to stay even. "Not all, Barbara."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Just the three of us," Helena said softly. "The boys stay behind." She touched Alfred's arm and gave it a healthy squeeze. "You're not a boy."  
  
"I'm not quite sure how I should take that," Alfred said with a smile.  
  
She just answered him with a wink. "Saddle up ladies."  
  
    

* * *

Barbara knew where they were going long before the Hummer pulled up in front of St. Mark's Cemetery in downtown New Gotham. Alfred came around to the door and helped her out even thought she didn't require the assistance. He squeezed her hand and then stepped back and away.  
  
Helena was already crossing into the cemetery, moving awkwardly on a body that had no business being up and about after all the strain of her recent kidnapping and torture. Just the same, she continued weaving with a perverse sense of rhythm and grace between the granite markers. She held a long silver box under her arm. They had picked it up at the Dark Horse on the way over.  
  
"Why are we here?" Dinah asked her mentor, glancing up to carefully inspect her mentor's facial expression. For her part the redhead seemed to be well put together.  
  
"Not sure," Barbara murmured, letting the electric chair glide her towards Helena. Inwardly she mused that the three of them probably made a fascinating visual what with her in a chair, Dinah on crutches and Helena looking like Quasimodo with all the upwards stability she was presenting.  
  
Helena pulled up short in front of a tombstone and looked down. As Barbara and Dinah approached, the blonde noticed her mentor pale considerably. She glanced down and saw the inscription on the granite: Wade Jason Brixton.  
  
"Helena?" Barbara asked, looking at the brunette who was staring down at the tombstone.  
  
"I thought we should all come here together. Say goodbye together," Helena offered. She ran a shaky hand over the granite. "I think we all need to put some things behind us. I guess deal."  
  
Barbara looked up at her and locked eyes with the brunette. "That's a good idea."  
  
"We all have people we love buried here," Helena said thickly. She glanced at Dinah. "Your mom is..."  
  
"Over there," Dinah whispered, her eyes already gazing towards a beautiful gray statue of an angel with its wings spread wide. Using her crutches she moved herself away from the two women and went towards her mothers' final resting place.  
  
"I'm sorry," Helena said suddenly, not looking at Barbara. She stared down at the words, her vision narrowing to include only them.  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"Sorry I let you down. Sorry I keep letting you down."  
  
"And I'm sorry I didn't believe in you," Barbara said softly.  
  
Helena turned to look at her. "I don't understand. You've always believed in me. I've never understand why but you always have."  
  
"Would things change between us if I told you I almost gave in?" Barbara asked, a slight tremor in her voice.  
  
Helena shook his head. "You know Barbara, on occasion it's okay for you to be human too."  
  
Barbara smiled wanly. "Okay Helena. On occasion it's okay for you to let down your walls and let people in."  
  
"Touché," Helena laughed. "And I'm trying here."  
  
'I know. I wish you also knew that I don't blame you."  
  
"But you did."  
  
"Helena..."  
  
"Okay to be human Barbara," Helena repeated.  
  
"I don't..."  
  
"You don't want to admit it do you?" Helena asked. "Because it makes you ugly. Hating someone you love, even if only for ten seconds make you ugly."  
  
"Yes," Barbara admitted thickly, eyes darting around. She wanted out of this conversation all the sudden and yet knew that it was one they had to have. Right now. Right here.  
  
"Then I guess we're all ugly sometimes," Helena said. She held Barbara's gaze, fighting to make a point. "After my mom died, I hated her. I did. I hated her with everything in me. She abandoned me. She left me to this." She closed her eyes. 'Then I hated me. I was ugly."  
  
"When Wade died..."  
  
"You blamed me," Helena finished for her.  
  
"I didn't want to."  
  
"I know."  
  
"It wasn't your fault."  
  
"I know. I mean in my head I know."  
  
"It just hurt so much. I haven't loved anyone since Dick left me. I thought maybe it was a new beginning..."  
  
"And I took that away from you."  
  
"No!" Barbara said hotly. "Harley took it away from me."  
  
"Barbara, you don't have to hold back. I can take it. I know my fault in all of this. Harley was wrong about a lot of things but she was right about that, I do bear some responsibility. I took away your chance to be happy."  
  
Barbara nodded slowly. "Do you blame Reese for what he said to you while under her influence?"  
  
'"No."  
  
"Then why should I blame you? To justify your guilt? I won't do that. You're right Hel, in the beginning I was angry at you. Furious. But I was more pissed off that you were willing to spill everything to your shrink when I was standing five feet away from you willing to listen."  
  
Helena dropped her head, eyes back on the tombstone. "I'm sorry."  
  
"But that's our work Helena. That's the job. Sometimes we love and live and sometimes we lose and die. Wade was murdered by Harley. That's her fault and hers alone."  
  
"I know," Helena said softly. "I know."  
  
"I just want you to talk to me. I just want you to let me in."  
  
Helena nodded. "I'll try. It's all I can offer."  
  
"I can deal with that. So, what's in the box."  
  
"A goodbye to a friend," Helena said. She opened the box to reveal several roses.  
  
"A friend? You and Wade?"  
  
"I don't know how I'd ever explain that but I'm here with you right now because of Wade," Helena said softly. She took one of the roses out and offered it to Barbara. "Here."  
  
Barbara took the long-stem red rose from the brunette. She noticed immediately that the thorns had been cut away. "This is what you picked up at the bar?"  
  
"I had Leonard order them for me. He's sleeping with the owner of the flower shop. Hell of a discount."  
  
Barbara laughed. "They're beautiful."  
  
"Yeah," Helena said. She took another rose out and dropped it down on the grass in front of the tombstone. "Thank you," she whispered. She looked up at Barbara," I'll leave you alone with him."  
  
"You don't have to."  
  
"I know but there's someone I need to talk to," Helena replied with a smile.  
  
"Okay," Barbara answered, looking down at the name on the stone. She slid herself out of her chair and moved down to the grass.  
  
Helena watched her for a few moments and then moved away, walking towards where Dinah was. The blonde was bent over the metal plaque, running her fingers over it. Helena could see tears staining her cheeks. She bent down next to Dinah and squeezed her shoulder. "Here."  
  
"What?" Dinah blinked and looked up. She saw the rose Helena was offering her. After a moment she took it.  
  
"We're gonna be okay kid," Helena promised her.  
  
Dinah nodded, some of the grief lifting a bit.  
  
Helena stood and walked across the grass to the far side of the cemetery. She stopped in front of a marbled slab. The plaque on it read: Selena Kyle.  
  
"Hi mom," she said softly. "Guess I'm still here and not up there with you. I kinda thought I would be." She swallowed hard. "I'm not ready yet. There are things I want to do here. There's a guy mom...I think...you know..."  
  
She moved her feet a few inches. "I don't want to let her down again. I don't want to give up. I need her. I think she needs me." She bent down and touched her mothers' name. "I miss you so much sometimes. I think of you every day. I wonder what you would think of what I've become. I wonder if you're proud of me." She placed the remaining red rose on the plaque. "I hope so mom because this is where I belong. This is where I'm meant to be. Fighting."  
  
She stood up and placed a hand over her mouth, a choked sob coming up from her throat. She felt an involuntary tear streak down her face. "Goodbye mom," she whispered.  
  
"You don't have to say goodbye Miss Helena," Alfred assured her. He touched her arm and slid one of his own around her waist. He could see how unsteady she was on her own feet. The illness of the past few days as well as the strain of her recent ordeal was finally settling over her. "She will always be in your heart. She will always be guiding you." He paused a moment, catching her eye. "And she will always be proud of you."  
  
"I know," Helena whispered. She glanced up over at the Hummer and saw that Barbara and Dinah were already over there, patiently waiting. They both looked across at her, wearing matching welcoming smiles.  
  
"Shall we go home then?" Alfred asked.  
  
She nodded. "Let's. I'm starved. You think I could bribe you into making me a five egg omelet with extra bacon?"  
  
He made a face. "That's an obscene amount of food."  
  
"Is that a yes?"  
  
"I think I could be convinced," he said with a smile. "But only if you then go right to bed. You need your rest." She rolled her eyes dramatically but nodded her acceptance of the deal. Holding her gently he brought her away from the tombstone and moved her towards the Hummer.  
  
And behind them, as they all entered the vehicle; four red roses sparkled in unison. A soft rain began to fall, brightening the green grass.  
  
Monday was finally over.  
  
-FIN 


End file.
